


The Social Worker

by IWantColouredRain



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, CEO!Oliver, Doctor!Tommy Merlyn, Social Worker! Felicity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:34:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 54,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25225423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWantColouredRain/pseuds/IWantColouredRain
Summary: Felicity Smoak has been a social worker for almost four years now, and she's damn good at her job. Then William Queen and his (gorgeous) father comes into play and suddenly things start to change.
Relationships: Barry Allen & Felicity Smoak, Barry Allen/Iris West, Cecile Horton/Joe West, Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen (brief), Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, Tommy Merlyn/Caitlin Snow, William Clayton & Felicity Smoak, William Clayton & Oliver Queen, William Clayton & Oliver Queen & Felicity Smoak
Comments: 536
Kudos: 556





	1. Meeting William

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Social worker Felicity Smoak meets the Queen men

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. This idea has been playing on my mind for awhile, rudely distracting me from my attempts to write Artemis, while at the same time being a brat about getting from my mind to the page. Finally, I decided to just put it up. Hopefully it lives up to my standards (FYI, while I have seen a couple of Flash episodes, it was only a couple, so if the Flash characters are too OOC, sorry. It is a fanfic, after all.)**

**For the moment I'm calling it 'The Social Worker', but that may change later. And this is not for fans of Laurel Lance, so if you like her, read something else. Finally, I have no idea how foster care works, so all of this is creative licence.**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter One**

**Meeting William**

"So," Felicity began finally, breaking the silence she and Zoe had fallen into after greeting each other when the young girl had climbed into the car, early in the day on the 21st November, 2018. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

Felicity Smoak had been a social worker for nearly four years now, and her bosses had been impressed from the start at how determined she was not to let any of her kids fall through the cracks, a determination that never faltered, unlike many of her colleagues who grew jaded and too overworked to keep it up. Felicity ensured that all of her kids had her phone number, and she only ever used a select group of foster parents with whom she had a relationship with, and in whose character she was completely certain of. On placing a child with a family, she visited them at first three to four times per week for a month before lessening it.

She also had an incredible talent for getting the hardest and angriest of foster kids to open up to her, though she refused to reveal her secret to her colleagues when they tried to ask. It wouldn't do them much good, anyway.

Her background let her connect with her kids, because Felicity knew exactly what they were going through. Her dad had left when she was five, her mother had turned to drugs and booze to cope, and she had gone into the system after her beloved grandmother died of a heart attack when she was eight. For years she had bounced around the system, often running away from the worst homes to stay on the streets for awhile, until she had been taken in by the Wests. Joe and Cecile had been her last set of foster parents, and they had treated her and their other foster child, Barry, with the same love they gave to their biological children, Iris and Wally. To this day Felicity considered them her family.

Because of that experience, Felicity was able to connect with her charges and convince them that, if they put in enough effort, they really could find something better. Four of her kids had aged out and she remained in contact with all of them. To her utter pride and delight, all of them were still in contact with their final placements as well, to varying degrees.

Twelve-year-old Zoe Ramirez was one of the first charges assigned to her. Felicity had taken over the girl's case two months into her job, when her former social worker retired. She was the daughter of two drug addicts living in the Glades, and had been taken into care after her mother had overdosed and drawn the attention of the state to the family's situation. Her father had managed to regain custody of her six months ago, and things seemed to have been going well lately. But this morning Zoe had called asking if she could pick her up, so they were now on the way to the park to get some hot chocolate and talk.

"I think Dad's using again," Zoe admitted, voice vulnerable. She stared hard out the window, not looking in Felicity's direction.

The blonde social worker sighed. She'd had her suspicions when Zoe called, but Rene had been alright when she collected her, so she'd hoped it was just some women's stuff that the teenager felt uncomfortable speaking to her father about. Felicity was careful to ensure that her kids knew she was there for them no matter what, whether it was puberty questions or the heavy life questions like 'why did my mom give me up?' or 'how come I'm unloveable?' that plagued members of the system. She was also very firm on drilling into their heads to always, _always_ call her if there were problems at their homes.

"Are you sure?" Felicity asked softly, turning on the indicator to go into the carparking spot. Zoe shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself defensively.

"Pretty sure," she replied. "I think I saw some white powder in his bathroom the other day, and last night he was really, really deep asleep. I couldn't get a response out of him."

Felicity finished parking, sighing again and reaching out to turn Zoe's face towards her own gently. The young girl, who was far too mature for her age, had brown eyes shimmering with tears and was biting into her bottom lip to stop it trembling. "You know you should've called straight away, right?" Felicity checked, because this was serious and Zoe's health was her first priority.

Zoe ducked her head. "I know, I just-" she replied. She burst into tears when Felicity pulled her into a hug, letting her cry it out as she stroked the teen's back soothingly.

Eventually Zoe ran out of tears and they were silent as she accepted the tissue to wipe her face, save for the occasional sniffle.

"We'll go and get some hot chocolate," Felicity said decisively. "And then we'll get your stuff."

"Yeah, okay," Zoe responded despondently. Felicity gave her a sympathetic look.

"I'm sorry, honey," she told her earnestly. Zoe grimaced at her.

"I know, I just wish..."

"Yeah, I get it," Felicity murmured. They left it there, leaving the car and heading for the small kiosk beside the entrance to the park.

* * *

William wandered through the park, frowning to keep from crying. He was a big boy now, and big boys didn't cry. Even when they were lost in the park and their cheeks hurt from the wind and they were cold because they didn't have their jackets on.

He sucked in a shaky breath, hunching his shoulders against the frosty wind.

"Honey!" An unfamiliar woman called out. Will didn't recognize the voice, so he ignored it. A moment later there was the skittering of stones and suddenly a pretty woman with blonde hair in a ponytail, bright pink lips, caring blue eyes and a purple coat over her red dress was crouching in front of him, brow wrinkled in concern. A girl with what Aunt Thea and Grandma would call olive skin (though it wasn't anything like olives), brunette hair in a braid and jeans was with her.

"Sweetheart," she addressed him. "Where are your mom and dad?"

Will hesitated. "I'm not s'pposed to talk to strangers," he told the woman, wincing.

"Oh, of course not," she nodded. She paused before reaching into her bag and pulling out a purse, opening it to show her driver's licence to him. "Do you know what this is, sweetheart?"

"It's a driver's licence, like Uncle Tommy had to show the policeman that time because he went too fast," Will answered confidently. "It has your name and face on it, and it says you can drive."

"Aren't you clever?" She smiled. "That's right. Do you know what mine says?"

He squinted and read it aloud. "Fuh-li-city Sm-oak. Felicity Smoak?"

"That's right," she nodded, still smiling. But not in the weird way some adults had, more in a way of saying that she was just a happy person. "You're very good at reading. That's me. I'm Felicity, and this is Zoe. Now, if you tell me your name, we won't be strangers anymore, will you?"

Will nodded. "I'm William Queen," he told her. "But everybody calls me Will."

Something like surprise flickered across both of their faces, but they said nothing about his name, though some people did on first being introduced to his family. Will didn't understand why.

"It's nice to meet you, Will," Felicity told him, shaking his hand the way Dad did with other adults in suits. It made Will giggle a bit, feeling silly and grown up. "So, honey," her voice softened. "Can you tell me where your dad is?"

"At work," Will shrugged, feeling his expression fall. "I guess. He's always there."

"I see," Felicity murmured. "And who's supposed to be watching you?"

"Laurel is," Will told her. The whole story burst out of him, prompted by Felicity's caring air and his own distress at the events of the day. He told the pair (because Zoe seemed nice too, even if she was quiet), how Laurel was Dad's new girlfriend, and how Will didn't really like her, but she made Dad happy so he didn't say anything. Then he told them how Dad was supposed to go to the zoo with them today, but work had called with an emergency and he'd suggested that the pair of them go without him. How Laurel had drunk something smelly, the same stuff Aunt Thea had been drinking secretly with her boyfriend, Shane, (he remembered that he wasn't supposed to mention that, he had promised Aunt Thea, but Felicity had promised that she would make sure he didn't get in trouble), and then drove him to the park. How Laurel had taken him as far as the playground, then disappeared while he was playing, and how he had wandered around for ages and didn't know where he was, until bumping into them. Felicity was very kind about everything, embracing him when he started to sniffle again and rubbing his back the way Mommy had when she was still alive and he was upset.

"That sounds like a really sucky day," Zoe told him sympathetically. "Don't worry, okay? Felicity'll help you. Her job is to help kids in trouble."

"You'll take me to Daddy?" Will asked Felicity hopefully.

She gave a soft smile and stroked his hair. "Of course, I'll call your dad," she promised, to his relief. "How about first we go and pick up Zoe's stuff. She has to go for a sleepover you see. Then we'll get you both some lunch while I get a number for your dad. Sound alright? What's your favourite lunch?"

"Big Belly Burger," Will answered, now feeling much cheerier, as he accepted her offered hand and went back to Felicity's car. It was bright red with some toys and books in the back, and the doors made a chirruping sound on being unlocked that made him giggle.

* * *

"Thanks so much for doing this so quickly Cecile," Felicity sighed in relief at her former foster mom. Cecile was the judge that Felicity always turned to when possible. Not only did she trust her completely, but Cecile was one of the rare judges who refused to allow politics to affect her decisions. The Queens wouldn't be able to bribe their way out of this one the way they had everything else.

"No problem, darling," Cecile answered warmly, scrawling her signature across the document granting the state temporary custody of William Connor Queen on grounds of suspicion of neglect. "Have you explained to him what's happening?"

"When I dropped him off at Iris and Barry's, yeah," Felicity confirmed, grimacing in recollection of the little boy's distraught confusion. Thankfully, her siblings were experts at soothing a newly minted foster kid's distress, and had distracted him with questions of what he wanted for dinner. Iris and Barry had registered to become foster parents a year after their marriage, and were Felicity's preferred emergency placement. They had twins of their own now, and another baby on the way, but they had refused to stop taking in children who needed it.

"He doesn't understand very well, but it does seem that Mr. Queen isn't a bad father," Felicity went on thoughtfully. "Just swamped with work and unable to pick up on his family and friends' faults, so I promised Will he'd be able to see his dad soon. On the other hand, William has to be my first priority, so until I'm satisfied, he's staying in care. He mentioned his mom's parents, but he also said they went on a cruise, and Thea Queen is apparently drinking, so I can't give him to any family members at the moment."

"The Queens are the type to bring pressure on their opponents," Cecile warned her. "They won't take this lying down."

"I don't care," Felicity answered defiantly. "I'm used to doing everything the hard way. Something tells me they aren't used to dealing with somebody who fights back."

Cecile smiled at her proudly. "That's my girl," she stated approvingly. "Hold onto that attitude. You're gonna need it."

* * *

Felicity strode into the lobby of Queen Consolidated, glancing around with a hint of curiosity. She took in the modern, sharp features, surprised at how busy the place was for mid-afternoon on a Saturday, then tucked her impressions away. She had a job to do.

She arrived at the receptionist's desk, pulling out her DCPS badge. "Excuse me?" She began. "I'm Felicity Smoak, with the Department of Child Protection Services. I need to speak to Mr. Queen."

"Mr. Queen isn't available right now," the secretary replied boredly, not even glancing at her and obviously not paying attention at all to what Felicity was saying. Felicity's lips flattened in annoyance.

"I have to speak to him about his son," she stated tensely.

"He's not-"

"What about my son?" A man's voice called. When the two women looked, they saw Oliver Queen himself, following by a large man Felicity assumed was his bodyguard, hurrying over to them from the lifts, brow furrowed in worry.

"Oliver Queen, father of William Connor Queen?" Felicity fell back on protocol to avoid gawping. Pictures did not do the man justice. He looked like Adonis.

 _'Focus, Felicity'_ she scolded herself mentally. ' _You're here to do your job, not gawp at fathers with bad taste in babysitters.'_

"That's me," Queen confirmed anxiously. "My son? Is he alright?"

"I think we ought to do this in private," Felicity stated, glancing around at the lobby. It wasn't too full, but it was full enough.

"No, tell me right now what happened to my son," Queen pressed, eyes angry and worried.

Felicity sighed and pulled out the file, holding it out to him. "Mr. Queen, I am Felicity Smoak of the DCPS and these are documents relieving you of custody of your son on grounds of negligence," she informed him softly. Queen's face went white and he shook his head in denial. "The file has the full details inside but here is a basic summary of what happened.

He was found wandering around the Glades park at around eleven-thirty today, without a coat. On being questioned, it was revealed that the woman you left him with was drunk and abandoned him there. As such, it is the duty of the state of Washington to put your son into an emergency foster home for the time being, until we have finished out investigation into your suitability to act as William's guardian. My card is included. A court time will be arranged as soon as possible to arrange a hearing."

Before they could do anything to stop her (she had experience with people getting physical after receiving news like this), she turned and strode out, in dire need of some mint chocolate chip ice cream and a Doctor Who binge. It had been a very long day.


	2. The Transcript

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver goes through the info Felicity gave him and discusses what his next steps should be with Dig (who is as helpful and blunt as ever. Go Diggle!)

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow.**

**Thank you to everyone who's enjoying this and who reviewed. Just a reminder, I'm not a social worker or a lawyer, nor do I have any experience with those professions. I'm also not a resident of the US and have only been there twice for holidays, years ago. Anything about them mentioned is creative licence, as mentioned in the previous chapter. In addition, at the start of the story, Thea isn't shown in a good light. I think of it as her being parallel to early S1 Thea, who was quite bratty and self-centred, not to mention a drug addict. She will improve, I promise. This is not a Thea bashing story. Finally, I'll be going away for a few days on Sunday, so there'll be no chance for me to do any writing then.**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Two**

**The Transcript**

Oliver was pretty sure he was in shock after the social worker (Felicity Smoke, had she said her name was?) strode out of the lobby, seemingly indifferent to the fact that she had just ripped his world apart with a few short sentences.

"I need to call my lawyers," he said blankly to Dig, who looked grim.

"Do it in the car," his head of security suggested in response, grasping his arm and tugging him away. But there was one thing Oliver wanted to get done first.

He gave a stony look to the receptionist, 'Amy' from her nametag. "From now on," he told the wide-eyed woman in a cold voice. "If someone comes in saying they need to discuss my son, they are to be sent _straight_ upstairs to me, understood?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Queen," she replied timidly.

"And if word of this spreads, I'll know who to fire," he added warningly. She paled and nodded quickly in understanding. There were others in the lobby, but he was fairly certain that they were far enough away to be out of earshot. He'd have them all contacted and warned to keep quiet if necessary, but right now he had to go and sort this mess out.

They couldn't take William away from him. This was all insane. He had left his son with his girlfriend of a year, whom he had only introduced to his son a month ago. The pair weren't too comfortable around each other yet, but today was only the fourth time they had met. He had been with Laurel for a year, known her for around fifteen months (discounting their brief relationship in high school that had broken up when Laurel went to Stanford to become a lawyer while Oliver went to Princeton, the first of the five colleges he had attended and his father's old school). He trusted her. She would never get drunk while caring for his seven-year-old son and then abandon him at some park. He didn't believe it. Laurel was an Assistant District Attorney, for crying out loud!

These thoughts ran around his head in circles as Dig escorted him quickly to the car, pushing him into the back before heading to the driver's seat to get them away as quickly as possible. The movement of the car (which he had no recollection of actually arriving at or getting into), snapped Oliver out of his frantic thoughts. His finger slipped, giving him a tiny papercut and reminding him that he was holding the file the social worker had told him was full of the information he needed.

He quickly flipped it open, speed reading the first few pages that were basically just some documents signed by a Judge Horton-West putting his son in emergency foster care pending a custody hearing on Monday afternoon. Then he found a report from the social worker (Felicity _Smoak_ , not Smoke. Absently, Oliver acknowledged that it was a lovely name.) that he took time reading. It explained how she had been out with another of her children (whose name wasn't written in the report) at a park in the _Glades_ of all places when they noticed a young child wandering the park alone inappropriately dressed for the weather.

Oliver had to pause at that point, hit with a painful image of his young son shivering from the cold. He'd been wearing a long-sleeved shirt and jeans when Oliver left for the emergency at work (a hacking attempt had accessed several old prototype blueprints. Thankfully, his IT department was the best in America, and they had found the address of the hacker. Sara Lance, Laurel's younger sister, a detective with SCPD like her father had been before his promotion to captain and a good friend of Oliver, had arrested the guy and was charging him with theft and hacking.). But while the clothes weren't unsuitable for the weather, that was when they were paired with a coat. Will must've been freezing. A lump obstructing his throat, Oliver forced himself to keep reading.

Ms. Smoak had approached him and showed him her driver's licence to get around the whole 'don't speak to strangers' problems, and gotten an explanation from him on what was wrong. On hearing William's story and making several attempts to call Oliver at the number he gave her without any success (a check of his phone showed several calls from an unknown number had been diverted to his EA, Karla, who had no doubt denied them. Unless she had a _very_ good explanation, he would be firing her for this.), Ms. Smoak had made the decision to place him in an emergency foster home until an investigation could be conducted. She had contacted Judge Horton-West for approval and had everything ready and signed within a few hours.

The last page was a transcript of Ms. Smoak's official interview with William about his home life, and Oliver felt himself pale in disbelief, unable to accept it as the truth but unable to refute it either.

How could Thea and Laurel have done this?

_**Interview with William Connor Queen (age seven) in relation to his home life. Conducted by Case Worker Felicity Meghan Smoak on November 21** _ _**st** _ _**, 2018 at the Department of Child Protective Services, Starling City branch.** _

_**FS:** _ _William, do you understand what's happening?_

_**WQ:** _ _Yes. Laurel left me on my own in the park and I could've been hurt, and Daddy didn't know, so now you need to make sure that he can look after me properly. He can, I promise. He's a really good dad, just busy._

_**FS:** _ _You're v_ _ery clever, aren't you?_

_**WQ:** _ _Everyone says so._

_**FS:** _ _They're right. Okay, so now I'm going to ask you some questions and I need you to promise to answer them truthfully, alright? I promise, no matter what you say, you won't get in trouble._

_**WQ:** _ _Daddy won't either, right? Zoe_ _said that her dad's in trouble and that's why she's not allowed to live with him anymore._

_**FS:** _ _Has your dad ever hurt you, or left you alone like Laurel did?_

_**WQ:** _ _No, Daddy's a great daddy, but he's really busy all the time, so Raisa takes care of me most of the time now that Mommy *hiccups* went away. And Aunt Thea babysits a lot too, but I prefer Raisa, 'cause she plays more games and teaches me stuff._

_**FS:** _ _I'm very sorry about your mommy Will. And no, seeing as your dad hasn't hurt you, he won't get in trouble. But sometimes adults can get distracted with other things, and they need to be reminded to look after their kids properly. That's what's happening here. I swear, we're gonna do everything we can to get you back to Daddy as soon as possible. But we can't do that while there's a risk to you. Understand?_

_**WQ:** _ _Yeah._

_**FS:** _ _Alright then. Brave boy. You're doing really well, okay? Now, you mentioned that Raisa looks after you a lot. Can you tell me about her?_

_**WQ:** _ _Raisa's great! She's the housekeeper at Grandmama and Aunt Thea's house. She picks me up from school and takes me there to stay until Daddy is finished work. She helps me with my homework sometimes, but she's not good at math, and she makes the best cookies_ _**ever** _ _, and she's from Russia and she's teaching me how to speak it. She taught Daddy too. It's a load of fun._

_**FS:** _ _She sounds really cool._

_**WQ:** _ _She's great!_

_**FS:** _ _I'm glad you're so close to her._ _So, she's never forgotten to pick you up, or not fed you lunch, or hurt you?_

_**WQ:** _ _No, never. Sometimes she gives me too_ _**much** _ _lunch, and she never even gives out to me or put me in the corner, like Daddy does when I don't tidy up my room. She just tells Daddy if I do something wrong, and he sorts it out._

_**FS:** _ _That's good. I'd like to meet Raisa. She sounds lovely. And what about Daddy? You said that he's a good daddy but he's very busy now. Was he this busy before your mommy went away?_

_**WQ:** _ _I dunno. I lived with Mommy then. But I guess he must've been. He runs a really big business, and he's in charge of lots of people. Nana and Granddad don't like him. They say he's a bad daddy and I should live with them, but I don't want to. I love Daddy. I want to stay with him._

_**FS:** _ _I understand. Can I just check something with you please, sweetie? Grandmama and Aunt Thea are your dad's family, Moira and Thea Queen, while Nana and Granddad are your mommy's parents? Do you know their names and where they are right now?_

_**WQ:** _ _Frank and Irene Clayton. They went on a cruise around the Canaries for their anniversary. I thought they were talking 'bout Sara's bird at first, but they meant the Canary islands. They'll be back in a week, and they're bringing me a present from every place they went! I haven't been there, but Daddy said if I wanted to, we could go there for a trip in the summer next year._

_**FS:** _ _Oh, nice. I wish somebody would send me off to the Canaries. Do you know why your grandparents don't think your daddy is a good dad?_

_**WQ:** _ _I dunno. Sorry._

_**FS:** _ _That's okay. At the park earlier, you said that Aunt Thea drinks a secret drink. Would you tell me about that?_

_**WQ:** _ _I won't get in trouble? I promised not to tell anyone._

_**FS:** _ _You won't, I swear._

_**WQ:** _ _Well, she keeps it in her closet. I was playing hide and seek with my friends Akio and his sisters Yuki and Reiko* while Aunt Thea was in charge of us at the mansion. I went to hide in her room, and I found her drinking it with her friend. I think his name's Shane. They were kissing on her bed too, and neither of them were wearing their shirts. Aunt Thea got annoyed when I came in and yelled at me and said to go away and play somewhere else._

_**FS:** _ _I see. And she was the only adult in the house at the time? When was this do you remember?_

_**WQ:** _ _I_ _t was, like, four months ago I think. And there were the guards, but they stay outside at the gate. Aunt Thea was in charge._

_**FS:** _ _Right. Sweetheart, have you ever seen your aunt have anything like this around?_ _**[shows picture of drugs]** _

_**WQ:** _ _I think so. She had a plastic bag with some white rocks in it in her coat pocket a few weeks ago. I wasn't snooping! Daddy sent me to get the keys from Aunt Thea 'cause he'd left his at work, and she pulled the bag out of her pocket when she was getting them._

_**FS:** _ _Don't worry, I didn't think you were. Does your dad leave you with your aunt a lot?_

_**WQ:** _ _Yeah, if Raisa or Aunt Lyla can't look after me he usually asks Aunt Thea. Usually she's fun, but if Shane's around or she's had some of her special drink she's mean._

_**FS:** _ _Who's Aunt Lyla? And has Aunt Thea ever given you some of her drink?_

_**WQ:** _ _Aunt Lyla is Daddy's friend, Uncle Dig's wife. Uncle Dig is charge of security Daddy said. I don't really get why we need him, Mommy didn't have security and Nana and Granddad don't have any either, but lots of other kids in my school do. Aunt Lyla's really nice. She and Uncle Dig have twin babies, Sarah* and JJ, and she lets me help look after them when I'm over. And Aunt Thea has offered to let me have a few tastes of her drink a couple times, but it tastes yuck so I said no after the first time. I don't get why she likes it._

_**FS:** _ _I see. It's good you did that. That drink is only for adults. Your dad would probably be very upset if you had some. Now, the last thing we need to talk about today is Laurel. Laurel is your dad's girlfriend?_

_**WQ:** _ _Yeah. They've been together for a while I think, but Daddy only introduced us a month ago. He hasn't done that before._

_**FS:** _ _Does your dad date a lot?_

_**WQ:** _ _No, I don't think so. He's too busy._

_**FS:** _ _Okay. How often have you met Laurel, Will?_

_**WQ:** _ _Uhm, three or four times I think. This is the first time she was with me without Daddy there. All three of us were supposed to go to the zoo, but Daddy had to go into work for an 'mergency._

_**FS:** _ _I see. And you said that Laurel had a smelly drink like Aunt Thea's with her?_

_**WQ:** _ _Uh-huh. It was a really strong smell, even stronger than Aunt Thea's stuff. I didn't like it. She was really annoyed about Daddy cancelling, and she was complaining but I couldn't really hear her words 'cause I went into the other room to play Mario Kart. I could just hear her voice, you know?_

_**FS:** _ _I do. Where did she get the drink, William? Did she bring it with her?_

_**WQ:** _ _Nuh-uh. She opened the special cabinet in the kitchen where Daddy keeps the adult drinks like wine for when his friends come over._

_**FS:** _ _It wasn't locked?_

_**WQ:** _ _No. Daddy says I'm not 'llowed to touch it, and it's too tall for me to reach anyway, even with a chair._

_**FS:** _ _I see. So she took the drink from your dad's special cabinet. Does your dad drink stuff from that cabinet a lot?_

_**WQ:** _ _No, never. He only has it for others who come over. He and Uncle Tommy don't touch it._

_**FS:** _ _That's good. He shouldn't be having that drink around kids. Sometimes it makes people get angry or forget things._

_**WQ:** _ _Including kids?_

_**FS:** _ _Yes, I'm afraid so._

_**WQ:** _ _Oh, so is that why Laurel left me at the park? She forgot me 'cause of her drink?_

_**FS:** _ _I think so. Was Laurel acting strangely after drinking?_

_**WQ:** _ _Yeah. She was kinda swaying, like this. And she drove weird too. Kinda jerky._

_**FS:** _ _I see. Thank you for telling me all of this, Will. We're done now, okay? You can have your treat now._

_**End of interview** _

"God," Oliver mumbled, stunned by the revelations within the interview.

He'd had his suspicions, of course, that Thea might've been dabbling in drugs. And he had known for a fact that she was drinking, despite being just nineteen. But whenever he tried to discuss things with her she erupted in anger and accused him of hypocrisy, and he had no real proof of the drugs, just suspicions. His work and raising Will had distracted him from looking too much into it. Perhaps a part of him had avoided doing so, hoping that, if he didn't actually find any evidence, his baby sister would remain the sweet young girl he remembered her as. And what teenager _didn't_ dabble in alcohol while still underage? Oliver certainly had little foot to stand on when scolding her, given his own past.

But he had never _dreamed_ that she might get drunk and have sex with that idiot she was dating while babysitting not only his son, but the children of his CIO and friend, Maseo Yamashiro. God, Oliver hoped he would be able to keep Maseo from learning about that. The Yamashiros doted on their three children, twins Yuki and Reiko and their son Akio, and were always fretting over Akio's ill-health (he had some rare auto-immune disease that had him being admitted to hospital six times a year on average). If they found out about that incident, he wouldn't put it past them to try and sue or something. They were his friends, but their children came first, naturally. Oliver would probably have done the same thing in that sort of situation.

"Oh, what am I going to do?" Oliver groaned to himself. God, at times like this he missed Sam desperately. They hadn't been together, just co-parents, but she had become one of his best friends over their years raising Will together. If she were here, this would never have happened.

"So, it's bad then?" Dig said from his place up front.

"It's a disaster," Oliver replied glumly, before going on to read out the transcript for his friend. Dig was always a font of good advice and calm, and Oliver was in dire need of his sage wisdom right now, when he felt on the verge of falling apart.

"Well," Dig said finally after a few moments of mulling the whole thing over. "I think we can fix this. It seems to me that the main problems are Laurel and Thea, not you. So-"

"Laurel won't be a problem any longer," Oliver cut in sharply, fury surging in his chest at the thought of her.

Now things were sinking in, he was enraged. How _dare_ she abandon his son? In a park in the _Glades_ of all places, _without a coat_ in _November_! He could have caught pneumonia if it started to snow as weather forecasts were warning was a possibility, to say nothing of the dangers of an adult, let alone a young child, wandering such a dangerous area alone.

Oliver shuddered to think what could have happened had some gang member or criminal recognized his son and decided to take advantage of the lack of supervision for the young boy to kidnap him and get a ransom. Oliver would pay any amount necessary for his son's safe return, naturally, but the thought of what might have happened would haunt his nightmares for a long time, the CEO was sure. Although the circumstances were still terrible, Oliver had to admit he was relieved the person who had found his son was a good person (even if he resented her removing his son from his custody), not a psycho.

It could have been _so_ much worse.

"So, you're breaking up with her then?" Dig confirmed. "I have to say I'm glad."

"No, 'I told you so'?" Oliver asked grumpily, though it wasn't Dig's style. The dark-skinned man had disliked Laurel from pretty much the first day, though he had limited his disapproval to a single conversation and a few pointed looks.

"No," Dig said simply. "But breaking up with Laurel only solves one problem, and the easier one at that. What'll you do about Thea?"

Oliver swallowed thickly, hands curling into fists and unintentionally crumpling the pages he was holding. While he really was furious that Thea would be so irresponsible, she was still his sister. He loved her.

"I bet it's that guy's fault," he declared. "Shane, her boyfriend. I've never liked him. He's a bad influence."

"Oliver, man, don't do that," Dig urged him. "Don't sweep what she's done under the rug. Maybe peer pressure is part of it, but Thea's nineteen now. She's not twelve anymore, she makes these decisions knowingly. She _knows_ she's too young to be drinking, she _knows_ the dangers of doing drugs, and she still _chooses_ to do them. She _chose_ to get drunk and have sex while in charge of four kids under the age of ten, and she chose to press your son into keeping quiet. What if something happened and she was too drunk to deal with it? Don't brush this off, Oliver. Did it do you any good to have your parents pay your way out of all consequences?"

Oliver grimaced, conceding to his friend's valid point. For most of his life, he'd been a selfish asshole, drinking and partying his way through life, thinking nothing of hurting people so long as he himself was satisfied. Then he had gotten drunk and ended up crashing his car while driving his hook up for the night back to his place. The woman, Sandra, had survived but at a cost. She was paralyzed. Given she had been studying on an athletic scholarship, this was especially devastating. At twenty, her life had been pretty much ruined because of his selfishness. The Queens had paid for her medical costs (still did, in fact), and for her to finish her degree, avoiding him being hit with charges but Oliver had received a painful reality check, one he had urgently needed.

He himself had also been injured in the crash, though not nearly as severely. He had refused his mother's suggestion of having his scars removed by a plastic surgeon. They served as a reminder and a warning to him, stopping him from ever becoming 'Ollie' again. Sam's announcement of her pregnancy only two months later had been the final push to make him become a better man, son, brother and friend. He had taken a long, hard look at himself, and he hadn't liked what he saw. He had wanted his son to be able to be proud of having him as a father.

Up until today, he had thought he'd done a decent job, but now he was regretting his arrogance.

"You're right, Dig," he sighed at last. "But still, she's my _sister_. My baby sister. What am I supposed to do?"

"You need to prove that Will's safety means more to you than Thea's comfort or your family's reputation," Dig told him seriously. By now, they were parked in the driveway outside of the mansion (it showed how well Diggle knew him, that he had realized Oliver would want to speak to his family in person about everything right away). "Tell Thea to either get clean, or she won't be allowed to be in contact with Will again."

Oliver grimaced, but nodded. Dig's advice was sound, and he had no real options in the matter. None that would get Will back, at any rate. He caught sight of the mention of Sam's parents in the interview and swore as a thought occurred to him.

"Frank and Irene," he said disconsolately. "They'll use this to press for custody."

The Claytons had never liked him, always judging him based on his 'Ollie' days. After Sam's death, they had tried to get custody of William, citing Oliver's long work hours and history of alcohol and drugs, but they had settled for regular visits after some negotiations. According to the agreement drawn up by their lawyers, Will was required to spend a minimum of two weekends per month at their house in Ivy Town. To their credit, their dislike of Oliver didn't extend to their grandson, on whom they doted, but nothing would soften them towards the boy's father. Oliver had no doubt that this mess would solidify their beliefs on his character, and result in a renewed custody battle.

Dig nodded understandingly. "Probably," he admitted. "But that's a problem for later. They're out of contact right now. Right now, you gotta focus on getting Will back ASAP."

"Yeah," Oliver nodded, reaching up to rub his eyes tiredly. "Thank you, Dig," he said to his friend, pouring as much sincerity as he could into the words. "I really appreciate everything you do for me. I don't know what I would do without your advice."

Dig grinned at him lightly. "Ah, you can give me a raise instead of words if you really want to thank me," he teased lightly, before sobering and clapping Oliver on the shoulder. "Seriously, though, man. It's going to be alright. You've hit a rough patch, but you'll make it through."

Oliver nodded, squaring his shoulders and bracing himself for the coming confrontation, and a confrontation it would certainly be, as he would do what Dig suggested and warn Thea that, until she was clean, she would not be allowed around his son. He had two days before the hearing on Monday and he was determined to have everything in order by then, so he could regain custody of his son.

William mattered more to him than anything and any _one_ else, including Thea. He would do whatever it took to get him back. Starting by cutting off Thea, speaking to Jean Loring about pressing charges against Laurel, and installing a lock on the alcohol cabinet in his kitchen.

And maybe he would cut back on his hours too. If Will's testimony was to be believed, then he had clearly been spending too much time at QC, and too little time with his son. William came first. Always.

* * *

* While in the show the Yamashiros have just a single son, Akio, who dies from the Alpha-Omega Virus outbreak in Hong Kong, in the comics they have twin daughters Yuki and Reiko, who are killed in a fire (I believe their evil uncle Takeo Yamashiro, Maseo's twin brother who was angry that Tatsu fell in love with his brother instead of him, set it, but I can't remember). In this, all three children exist, but they're side characters and shouldn't have much part in the story.


	3. Oliver's Ultimatum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver confronts Thea about her actions and (lack of) care for William

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Thank you all for your reviews and interest in my new story. Still not fully sure where I'm going with it (other than a HEA for Olicity, obviously), but I think I'm getting there. Thea & Moira might be OOC in this chapter, but that's mostly due to shock from the news.**

**Happy 31** **st** **birthday to Felicity Queen née Smoak!**

**(Also, I've been reading a lot of P &P variations and fanfics over the past week, so if it comes across in the style I use, I apologize and hope it doesn't put anybody off)**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Three**

**Oliver's Ultimatum**

Oliver left Dig waiting in the car, certain that his visit to his childhood home would be a short one, and went inside his the mansion. He found his mother and sister sitting together on the sitting room sofa, gossiping over something in a magazine they were going through.

He studied Thea as he entered, searching for any sign of drugs or drink on her. Now he was looking for it, he could see how pasty her complexion had become, the shadows under her eyes covered by foundation and her worryingly thin frame. He could only hope his ultimatum would put an end to her addiction. He loved his sister completely, no matter her faults, and he knew that she adored her nephew. Maybe the threat of losing the ability to see Will, the knowledge that her actions had contributed to him being taken into foster care, would get through to her the way arguments and bribes had failed to do.

"Oliver, dear!" His mother greeted him with a bright smile, rising to come over and hug him. Her smile slipped away when she saw his tense demeanour and she noticed that there was no sign of William. "Honey, what's going on? You seem very upset. Is William alright?"

Thea also stood and came closer, looking concerned.

"Will was taken into foster care earlier today," Oliver revealed grimly, causing them both to gasp in shock. Thea shook her head in disbelief, and his mother covered her mouth with her hands. "I only just found out, though it seems that the social worker now in charge of his case tried to call me several times, only my EA diverted her calls."

He would be speaking to Karla about that sharply, and her future employment depended on her answer. Maybe if he had been able to speak with Ms. Smoak earlier when she first tried to contact him, he could've persuaded her not to take Will away.

"How could this have happened?" Moira demanded furiously. "They have _no_ right! On what grounds did they take my grandson?"

"I left Laurel to watch him while I went into work to deal with an emergency," Oliver explained bitterly. "And then she proceeded to get drunk and abandon him in a park in the Glades. A social worker found him and took him into care."

"That bitch!" Thea hissed, though whether she was talking about Laurel or Ms. Smoak, Oliver couldn't tell.

He turned a cold gaze on his sister, causing uncertainty to flash across her face.

"Ollie?" She said questioningly. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Finding him in the park isn't the only reason she took him away," Oliver replied, tone icier than it had ever been towards his sister. Moira's brow was wrinkled in concern as she looked between them in wary confusion.

"When she found him, Ms. Smoak conducted an interview with Will," Oliver went on tersely. His hands clenched into fists, anger at Thea and Laurel surging. How dare they be so reckless with his son? "According to him, you've been drinking and having sex with Shane, _while_ babysitting him, and your activities lately having been mentioned in a lot of tabloids, so I doubt that helped my cause. Will also told her about spotting a bag of drugs in your coat pocket a few weeks ago. That, along with Laurel's actions and her lack of ability to get into contact with me, is what led to the judge signing the order for Will go be taken into care. Is that true, Thea?"

"Thea?" Moira demanded, paling. "Surely you haven't been so foolish as to risk William like that? It's one thing to have a bit of fun, but to get drunk and have sex while in charge of your seven-year-old nephew? Tell me that's wrong!"

Thea paled, shrinking in on herself and gaining a guilty expression. Usually she reacted to being confronted over her behaviour with anger. That she wasn't this time practically screamed her guilt. "I just-I was-" she stammered, uncharacteristically. "I never thought anything would happen to Will!" She exclaimed desperately, giving him a pleading look. But this time, for once, Oliver could find no sympathy for his sister. He glared at her, nails digging into his palms, he was so angry.

"I lost custody of my son because of you," he snapped accusingly. "I can't believe you, Thea! How could you be so stupid, so _selfish_? If it had just been Laurel's actions that were the problem, they probably wouldn't have taken him, but me regularly leaving my son in the care of an alcoholic drug addict was the final straw!"

"Ollie, I'm so sorry-"

"I don't care!" He burst out, his panic and frustration finally bubbling over. "Can't you see that sorry isn't good enough? I swear to God, Thea, if I lose Will completely because of this, I'll never forgive you! As it is, I have a custody hearing on Monday, when I'll be informing the judge that, until you have gone through rehab and I can trust that you not put my son at risk again, you won't see or speak to him in any way."

"Ollie, please-"

"No!" He snapped harshly. "We've been indulging you all your life, and clearly it's done nothing but make you as selfish and indifferent to others as I was when I was younger!"

Her lip wobbled at his verbal lashing, eyes glazing with tears. Later, he had no doubt that he would feel terribly guilty for upsetting her, but right now he was too angry with her to care. She had put his son at risk, cost him custody and given the Claytons ammo for their attempts to take Will from him. He didn't know if he would ever be able to fully trust or forgive her for this. He would certainly never forget it. Even if she got clean, he had no idea how he would ever be able to feel comfortable leaving William alone with her again.

"Oliver, dear, please calm down," Moira tried to intervene. "I realize how upset you are, but we'll fix this. We'll call Jean immediately and get this order overturned and have William returned to us immediately."

"It's been signed by a judge already, Mom," he snapped back, shoving the page in her direction for her to examine. "And it's Saturday evening. The courts are all closed. There's nothing we can do officially until Monday morning at the earliest."

"Oliver," Moira began, but he cut her off.

"I'm too angry to even be in the same house as her right now," he nodded at Thea, who looked shaken and upset. Maybe this would shake some sense into her. He hoped so, at any rate. Even furious as he was with her, she was still his sister and he didn't want to risk anything happening to her. And if she continued down this path, then something _would_ happen. He knew that from experience, and he didn't want Thea to have to go through the same trauma he had when he crashed his car and almost killed poor Sandra in order to grow up.

"I'm leaving now," he informed them curtly, taking back the documents from his mother. "I need to call Jean and see what can be done about proving I'm not unfit, and having charges pressed against Laurel for abandoning my son in the middle of a park in November. Thea, I don't want to hear from you. When I'm ready to speak, I'll call you. And I mean it when I said you won't be allowed contact of any sort with Will until you're clean. Don't even try, because I might decide not to let him ever see or speak to you again if you do. Goodnight, Mom."

Leaving the two women shaken and upset in the sitting room, Oliver turned on his heel and made his way back out to the car where Dig was patiently waiting for him as requested. The older man gave him a sympathetic look when he slid into the backseat of the car and sighed heavily, leaning his head back against the rest and closing his eyes tiredly.

"That well, huh?" Dig said as he started the car and began driving towards the gates.

Oliver grimaced. "Could've been much worse," he conceded. "I think they were both so stunned they couldn't think what to say. I'm sure once they've regained their senses they won't be shy in telling me their opinions."

"Sounds like something to look forward to," Dig remarked dryly. "Where to next, man?"

"My loft, please Dig," Oliver said after a moment. "I want to call Jean Loring and see what I can do about getting custody back and pressing charges against Laurel."

"I don't know what the law says about abandoning children who aren't your own in this state," Dig replied with a frown. Oliver frowned.

"I'm sure I can at least get a hefty fine levelled on her," he answered.

"I'm surprised you're planning on doing more than break up with her," Diggle admitted, making Oliver frown.

"What do you mean?" He said in confusion. "She abandoned my son in a park, without a coat, in the middle of the Glades of all places! You don't think I should try and see her punished for that?"

"Oh, I most certainly do," Dig assured him immediately. "But I thought you'd let her off with a warning to stay away from your family or something. I mean, face it man. You've always had a bit of a chivalrous streak."

Oliver frowned, but knew where his old friend was coming from. He tended to have a habit of being a bit sexist, letting them get away with a lot of stuff he'd never let a man off for.

For example, early in his tenure as CEO, he had started dating a woman called Isabel Rochev, a businesswoman working for Stellmoor International. Unbeknownst to Oliver, Isabel wanted revenge against his family for his father refusing to run off with her when she was younger. Oliver was blinded by her sly smiles and beauty, and had it not been for his then-EA, Brianna, picking up on what Isabel was doing, he wouldn't have noticed the clause in the contract Isabel had been trying to get him to sign that would have given her control of his family's shares and turned them bankrupt. As it was, she had done significant damage to Queen Consolidated and his standing in the business world by convincing him to follow her advice. The venom Isabel had spewed at him when he confronted her had stunned him. He had been incredibly shaken by the experience and the fact that, despite Dig and Tommy's outspoken dislike of the woman, he hadn't paid attention to their concerns, blinded by her beauty and gender.

He didn't know where his mindset had come from, given the examples of his mother, Thea and several other strong, clever and beautiful women, but at some point in his life he had started thinking that pretty women were harmless. It frustrated him, especially because he was _aware_ of the problem, but he never realized he was slipping. Ever since Isabel, he tended to rely on Diggle's judgement of people. But his old connection to Laurel had overruled his reliance on his friend, and he was reaping the consequences yet again.

"You're right," he sighed glumly.

"Well, I usually am, Oliver," Dig confirmed, making them chuckle a bit over his shameless lack of modesty. Not that he was wrong in his statement. Diggle had often been compared to Yoda. He was a font of advice and sage wisdom, but he wouldn't push it on someone unwelcoming of it. That being said, when he was asked for it, he would be happy to provide help.

"I should have listened to you," Oliver said, losing his amusement again. "At some point, I'll learn not to let a pretty face overrule my sense, and stop me from paying attention to your advice. But I can't let this go. Anything could have happened to Will after what Laurel did. She needs to face consequences for that. And hopefully it will help my case at the hearing."

"I'm glad you realize that," Dig told him approvingly. "And if you need any help I can give, you have it. I'd be happy to act as a character witness if necessary, and I'm sure Lyla would too."

"Thank you," Oliver replied gruffly, hiding the emotions he felt at his friend's support.

"So, straight home, or do you want to stop and grab a takeout on the way?" Dig inquired.

"Straight home," Oliver confirmed. "The faster I get started on fixing this mess, the better. God, I hope the tabloids don't hear about this too fast. That's the last thing I need."

Dig gave him a sympathetic look as he turned in the direction that would lead them to Oliver's suburban house, while the CEO himself took out his tablet and began looking into the laws governing the foster care system in the state, after leaving a voicemail with Jean Loring, the Queen family's personal attorney, alerting her to the situation and requesting she call him back as soon as possible.


	4. Confrontations, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver kicks Laurel to the curb

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. As usual, thanks for everyone who is following this. I'm glad it's so well** **received.**

* * *

**IMPORTANT AN: Alright, as the daughter and niece of several doctor who work with terminal cases and as such is heavily involved in Covid, I have to say this. My mother is distraught and on the verge of tearing her hair out with upset frustration because of how lax people are being. Covid is not a joke! Just because lockdown is ended (and doctors say it'll need to be re-started soon if people aren't following guidelines) doesn't mean everything is fine. Everyone who goes out ignoring social distancing and without a mask, or who has a mask but has it on their chin or not covering their noses or whatever, is being selfish and putting not just themself, but everyone around them, in danger.**

**Social distancing, wearing a mask, these are ESSENTIAL, they are not arbitrary rules put in place to inconvenience you. They are there to PROTECT you! Masks are now proven to prevent the spread of Covid, AND to prevent YOU from spreading it. But if you wear it on your chin, then pull it up, you're not going to benefit from it. Nor will you be protected if your nose isn't covered. And as for visors, they don't do anything as far as my mother, aunt and uncle know. They need a mask beneath them to really work. Re-useable masks MUST be washed after every use, no matter how irritating it is.**

**We are in the middle of a worldwide pandemic people! I know it's annoying, it bothers me too, the masks are uncomfortable to wear and they fog up my glasses, but I STILL WEAR them. Why? Because if I went out without one, and became a Covid carrier, then I would be responsible for spreading it to anyone I passed, putting their lives at risk.**

**Bottom line? If you don't follow government guidelines, purely because they're irritating for you, you're as good as a murderer in my eyes.**

**So fucking wear a mask and practice social distancing. The more you do it, the sooner the pandemic will end and we can go back to our regular lives. For now, don't be a killer!**

* * *

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Four**

**Confrontations, Part One**

Dig had offered to come up and lend a hand (and some moral/emotional support), but Oliver had urged him to go home instead. The older man had a wife and two young children after all, and there wasn't really anything he could do right now. So instead, Diggle dropped him off at his apartment building, and drove away, while Oliver entered his own home, scrubbing at the side of his face tiredly with his free hand, the other occupied with his jacket, briefcase and the file from Ms. Smoak. It felt like it had been such a long day, but it was only six in the evening. How was that possible?

He froze in anger and shock when he entered his sitting room and found Laurel, deep asleep and sprawled over his expensive and comfortable leather couch. The scent of wine hung in the air around her.

In the back of his mind, Oliver wondered what had happened for her to let her façade of being fine drop. They'd been dating for a year after all without him picking up on anything. Though, on reflection, he had to admit that their mutual careers kept them both very busy, and Oliver had also had Will as his priority. Maybe she hadn't been hiding it as well as he had felt at first.

Or maybe the case she had recently lost, something he knew could have been a career-maker for her if it had gone the other way, was what had pushed her over the edge. Or maybe it was both. Oliver didn't know, and right now he didn't care either.

Today, it felt as if he didn't know anything. It was hard to believe that it wasn't even two hours ago that he learned about Will being taken away from him.

Thoughts of the day's earlier events stirred up the rage in his chest again, and his expression hardened as he put down his things and strode over to look above Laurel's prone form, crossing his arms over his chest. "Laurel!" He barked sharply, making her jolt awake and into a sitting position, looking around in bewilderment.

"Ollie," her face relaxed into a smile when she recognized him and she stood, moving in for an embrace. He stepped back, glaring at her. Her face crumpled into a confused look. "Ollie, what's wrong? What happened, you seem upset? Is everything alright?"

He let out a harsh laugh at that. "Seriously?" He spat, his eyes flashing angrily. "Are you seriously going to do this? Act as if nothing's wrong? Do you even understand what you've done? What you've cost me?"

She stared at him in bewilderment and growing anger, her own eyes turning hard. "Excuse me?" She demanded sharply, hands resting on her hips. "What the hell are you talking about? I haven't done anything!"

He scoffed, fists clenching so hard he could feel his short nails digging into his palms. He wasn't a violent person, although he enjoyed his weekly self-defence lessons with Dig, enjoyed releasing his anger in a productive way. He had never raised a hand to any woman before, but God, right now he was tempted to slap her for what she had done. And she didn't even know! How drunk had she been, to forget that she'd abandoned his son at a park, and then fall unconscious in a drunken stupor for hours?

"Oh, you didn't, did you?" He asked sarcastically.

"I didn't," she confirmed through gritted teeth. "And I'm getting seriously pissed at you, Ollie. I hope you have a good explanation for this."

"I hope you at least remember me leaving you to watch William for the day while I went into work to deal with the emergency?" Oliver checked coldly. She had definitely been sober then. He wouldn't have left Will with her otherwise.

She nodded sharply, shrugging a shoulder. "Yes, I remember. So what? Is this because I fell asleep? Jesus, Ollie. Don't be so ridiculous. I dozed off. The kid's fine, probably off playing in his room or something."

He stared at her incredulously. It terrified him to think of how drunk she must have been while driving, to apparently not even remember taking Will to the park and leaving without him. How the fuck had she not gotten into an accident?

"You got so drunk you don't even know that you abandoned him in the middle of the Glades!" Oliver shouted. He turned and punched the wall, fearing that if he didn't, he would punch her instead.

"Excuse me?" Laurel exclaimed indignantly, though he heard a note of some emotion he was too incensed to identify (guilt, possibly?) in her voice. "How dare you! I would never be so reckless with a child!"

"These say differently!" Oliver spat, snatching up the file and waving it in her face. He yanked it out of her reach when she went to take them, still glowering at her. "Get out of my home," he ordered her harshly. "I'll be pressing charges for whatever my lawyers can pin on you. The foster system has taken custody of my son from me because of you, and I swear to God, I will make you regret it."

"You can't-" she started to protest, but he cut her off.

"Get out!" He demanded. "Now! Before I throw you out!"

Shaken by his serious demeanour Laurel sniffed haughtily, adjusting her blouse and stalking out with her head held high. "These so-called charges you want to press aren't going to stick," she warned him at the door. "I'm a respected Assistant District Attorney, my father is the Captain of the SCPD. They won't stick."

It sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as him.

"We'll see what happens when my lawyers throw the book at you," Oliver answered coldly, confident in his people's ability to win the case. Given the evidence, it would be a slam-dunk for them, especially when he would be promising to give them all bonuses for winning it.

He watched her leave, too furious to even feel upset over the implosion of his relationship.

* * *

Felicity was exhausted by the time she returned home. After informing Mr. Queen of the situation, she had returned to the office to file the last of the paperwork regarding William and the custody hearing on Monday, as well as organize for Zoe's new placement and to write a report for her superiors to advise a full termination of parental rights for Rene Ramirez, given his repeated relapses. This was actually the third time since Zoe had first gone into the system that Ramirez had relapsed, and enough was enough. Evidently his addiction was too strong for him to overcome properly, and he was only harming Zoe by continually re-gaining custody of her and then losing it again. No more. Felicity was out of patience with the man.

Zoe would spend the night with the WestAllen family, and in the morning Felicity would take her to her new foster home with the Pierces.

Jefferson and Lynn Pierce had two daughters of their own, one who was about to finish her undergraduate degree at college, while the younger was just entering it. Jefferson was principal of Garfield High, and Lynn was a respected paediatrician at Starling General. They were both accomplished at reaching and comforting foster kids, and had been foster parents since Anissa, their eldest daughter, was twelve, over a decade ago. They were one of the first families Felicity had interacted with and she liked them both a lot. Zoe would do well with them for the moment, and would have company in the form of Evelyn Sharp, a fifteen-year-old who was also one of Felicity's kids.

Evelyn was one of Felicity's more troublesome kids, but she had settled down a lot since she had been placed with the Pierces. She got along brilliantly with Jennifer, the younger Pierce girl, and had started attending a free afterschool kickboxing class held every Monday and Wednesday afternoon at Garfield High, which gave her an outlet for her hurt and resentment at the world.

Felicity made a mental note to check in with Evelyn when she was dropping off Zoe, and see how she was doing.

The young social worker sighed tiredly and laid down on her couch, having changed from her work clothes (a dress with a black top and a skirt with broad, multi-coloured stripes paired with red heels and her usual make up, mostly subtle save for her bright fuchsia lips) into a pair of mismatched pyjamas consisting of a pale pink, oversized shirt saying Love & Coffee over a pair of shorts with tiny teddy bears dancing on them beneath her kimono-style dressing gown. She put a simple sandwich and crisps as well as a cup of much needed coffee (though it was late enough that she switched to decaf) on the coffee table in front of her, before picking up her remote and playing Doctor Who.

She decided to re-watch the reboot's season one. It was her favourite of the reboot. She absolutely loved the relationship between Rose and Eccelston's Doctor, as well as considering the Ninth Doctor's Team TARDIS as the best of the new series TARDIS teams. She disliked Season 3 (or rather, she disliked Martha Jones' character, though the character improved after the Year That Never Was), considered Donna one of her top ten favourite companions and a surrogate sister for the Doctor, and hated both Amy Pond and River Song. Clara was an interesting character though, and she liked Rory too, though in Felicity's opinion, he deserved a lot better than Amelia Pond.

Moffat had really done a number on the show, in Felicity's opinion.

Felicity took her sci-fy seriously, and could rant for hours about one thing or another relating to characters or storylines. Thankfully, her friends were all nerds too, and they all had many fond debates about their opinions of the different shows they enjoyed.

She was finished her snack and mouthing along to Nine's emotional declaration to Rose 'I could save the world but lose you!', when her phone rang. She paused the show and glanced at the caller ID, seeing 'Caitlin' flashing across the screen along with a picture of her curly-haired friend.

"Hey, Cait," she greeted the other woman warmly after accepting the call. Caitlin Snow was probably her best friend in the world after Barry and Iris, and it wasn't quite the same, given they were her siblings. She had met the aspiring surgeon when in college, both of them having managed to get scholarships to UC Berkeley in California. They had met during Orientation Week and the rest was history.

_"Hey, Lis,"_ her friend replied, a hint of what seemed like unease in her voice. Felicity was instantly concerned, and she straightened up.

"What's wrong?" She asked immediately. "And don't say nothing! I can hear it in your voice. Did you have an argument with Tommy?"

Tommy Merlyn was also a doctor, though he was studying cardiology. He and Caitlin had met about six months previously when she started her residency at Starling General, but they had only started dating two months ago, and their busy schedules meant it wasn't too serious yet, though Caitlin was certainly pleased at how well things were going so far. Felicity looked forward to meeting him. From what Cait said, he was good for a laugh.

_"Not quite,"_ Caitlin responded slowly. _"It's just-he-. Oh, for God's sake. Did you really take custody of William Queen this afternoon?"_

Felicity raised her eyebrows in surprise. "How did you find out? Is it in the news already?" She frowned at idea, disliking the thought of one of her kids' lives being on display like that. The custody case was nobody's business but the Queens and hers, and she found the stuff people did and unveiled for no reason other than gossip to be terrible.

Felicity would hate to be famous. It seemed like hell to her.

_"No, not that I've heard,"_ Cait denied _. "But Tommy is Oliver Queen's best friend, remember? William is his godson. He called to tell him what happened, and Tommy remembered your name and that you're a social worker from our conversations, so he thought it might have been you."_

"Well, he was right," Felicity confirmed. "Do you know what happened?"

_"Not really,"_ Caitlin admitted. _"Something about Will being left alone in a park? I can't understand it. From what Tommy's told me, Oliver is very protective of William's safety. Bodyguards and top-notch security systems, all of that. There was a kidnapping attempt when he was younger, apparently. It didn't work, but ever since the Queens have been very cautious, according to Tommy. He asked me to call and see what's going on."_

Felicity explained the whole story to her friend, and was relieved when Caitlin expressed her support for her actions at the end.

_"I haven't met Laurel Lance, or Thea, but whatever I think of the tabloids, those pictures and stories have basis, we know that from Iris,"_ Cait stated reasonably. _"And he was in a Glades' park, without a coat in the middle of winter! You couldn't have done anything else after that interview, Lissy. You wouldn't be you if you hadn't taken action."_

"Thanks, Cait," Felicity sighed. "I know I did the right thing, but I do feel awful. Queen doesn't seem like a bad father, just unintentionally neglectful and reluctant to acknowledge his loved ones' mistakes. I hope this'll be one of the better cases, and I can send Will home sooner rather than later."

_"I'm sure you will,"_ Cait assured her. _"Tommy has mentioned how much Oliver loves William quite a few times. I'm sure he'll do whatever necessary to get his son back."_

"I hope so," Felicity sighed. It wore on her, some of the situations she saw in her capacity as a social worker. Her rocky childhood had been paradise compared to those of many children, and she saw many parents claim to love their children more than anything, only to make no real effort to improve things and regain custody. It broke her heart every time, and the good cases stitched the pieces back together again.

Just then, her doorbell rung, making her frown as she glanced at the clock on her wall. Who the heck came over uninvited at nine-thirty at night without even a call?

"Cait, somebody's at the door," she informed her friend. "I'll text you later, okay?"

_"Alright,"_ Caitlin agreed. _"I'll talk to Tommy, tell him not to worry about Will."_

"No details," Felicity warned automatically, even though Caitlin already knew that. She hung up and went to the door, grabbing the baseball bat she kept for emergencies and peering out the keyhole. This was a safe neighbourhood, on the other side of town from the Glades (though of course it was equally as far away from the homes of the one percenters who also populated the city), but life, and her cop foster father, had taught her that it was better to be safe than sorry.

Her eyebrows flew to the top of her head when she recognized the person standing on her doorstep. Uncertain but trying to hide it, Felicity put the bat back down and undid the locks, staring warily at the elegant woman who was standing before her with a haughty expression.

"Hello, Mrs. Queen," Felicity said evenly. "What can I do for you?"


	5. Confrontations, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moira 'talks to' Felicity, and Felicity tells Will a bit about her history

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. As usual, thanks to everyone who has reviewed or is following this. Remember to follow safety procedures, for your and everyone else's sake!**

**Read, enjoy and review. I hope the Moira versus Felicity scene lives up to expectations. Tell me what you think!**

**Chapter Five**

**Confrontations, Part Two**

Felicity eyed the matriarch of Starling City's most famous family warily. She was under no illusions. Moira Queen would neither know of nor would she care about her existence were it not for the fact that she was her grandson's social worker. This was about William.

Mrs. Queen was dressed in an elegant navy skirt suit with a white blouse and a pair of dark blue, _sharp_ , heels. There was a pearl necklace around her neck that matched the teardrop earrings dangling from her lobes, and a pearl bracelet around her right wrist. Her wedding and engagement rings were the only jewellery on her left hand. Her makeup was impeccable and she didn't have a single hair out of place.

All in all, she gave off the air of being a Queen in truth, not just name, and her grey-blue eyes had a disdainful look to them as she studied Felicity.

The younger woman squared her shoulders and raised her chin defiantly, refusing to be cowed by the woman's obvious contempt. It was nine-thirty at night and this was Felicity's home. She had every right to be wearing pyjamas in her own house!

"Can I help you, Mrs. Queen?" Felicity asked, careful to block Moira's view of her hallway.

"Miss Smoak, I take it?" Was the socialite's response. Felicity gave a nod. "I would like to speak to you in regards to my grandson, William Queen."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, ma'am," Felicity replied bluntly. "It's inappropriate." Moira's bland expression tightened and her eyes narrowed slightly. This was a woman who was not used to being denied, and who certainly didn't enjoy the novelty of it.

"I insist," Moira pressed, eyes hard. Felicity pursed her lips.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Queen, but I can't do that," Felicity repeated. "Have a nice night." She made to close the door, but Moira swiftly stuck her foot out, using it to keep the door from closing. Felicity scowled in annoyance.

"There is no need for this to become unpleasant, Ms. Smoak," Moira said, a hint of threat in her voice. Felicity could see a pair of bulky bodyguards standing at the bottom of the steps leading to her door. They were tense, and she had no doubt that, on Mrs. Queen's order, they would force their way inside her house. Best to avoid that. Replacing the door would be expensive.

"Come inside," she sighed, giving in and letting Moira have this one little victory, so long as Felicity was able to hold her ground in the war itself.

A hint of smugness leaked into the older woman's expression as she swept inside, acting as if she owned the place. Felicity gritted her teeth, annoyed by the haughty air of the woman as she led her into the sitting room.

Her gaze flickered towards the adjoining kitchen, debating whether or not to offer Moira some refreshments. She decided against, not wanting to encourage the woman to be in her house any longer than absolutely necessary. Frankly, Felicity just wanted to go to bed at this point. She was exhausted, too exhausted to deal with an arrogant socialite who thought that she was royalty based on her wealth and surname and who used her considerable influence to bend people to her family's will, disregarding the dangers to those others.

Moira looked around, arching an eyebrow as she took in the room. "What a, _quaint_ , home you have, Miss Smoak," she remarked, eyes lingering on the mantlepiece, and the photographs of Felicity, her adoptive family and her friends that lined it.

She didn't say it like a compliment.

Felicity felt her jaw tense, her teeth grinding together. "Thank you, Mrs. Queen," she replied coolly, acting as if Moira had been exclaiming over her décor. She was used to dealing with people she disliked, maintaining a calm façade no matter how she felt within.

Truthfully, she didn't have anything against Moira Queen save for her deciding to come to Felicity's house without invitation so late at night. The implications of why were obvious, and instantly set Felicity's teeth on edge. (Not to mention how she would have gotten the address in the first place. Felicity wasn't sure if she even wanted to know how she'd managed that one.) Felicity had learned to tell when people were going to try and wriggle their way out of charges or whatever, and Moira Queen was obviously one of those types.

It was insulting really. It implied that Felicity was willing to put anything above the wellbeing of the kids in her care, and she hated the thought of that. Some of her less morally upright colleagues might be capable of it, but not Felicity. Her kids came first.

"Mrs. Queen," Felicity went on, subtly turning on her phone's video function, just in case she needed evidence of her and Moira's 'conversation'. She ensured it was placed out of Moira's line of vision, hiding it with one of her throw cushion. "It's quite late, and I've had a long day. Would you please skip the niceties and just say what you're here for?"

The Queen matriarch frowned slightly before the expression smoothed out into a pleasant smile. "Of course," she agreed. "I'd hate to drag all of this unpleasantness out longer than necessary."

"Uh-huh," Felicity nodded, unimpressed and unfooled by the woman's actions. "And what unpleasantness might that be?"

Moira's lips pursed. "Well, this business with my grandson, of course," she sniffed. "It's all a misunderstanding. My son trusted his girlfriend to watch over his child, and he was horrified to learn of _Ms. Lance's_ actions. But I don't see why our entire family should be punished by having William taken from us due to _her_ negligence. My son has already broken up with the woman, and is in fact having charges pressed against her for endangering William's safety. I am hopeful, given that fact, that we can come to an agreement, leaving the courts out of it."

Ah, so she was trying to cover for her family by putting all of the blame on Laurel Lance. This custody hearing wouldn't look well for them in the news. Well, she'd soon find that Felicity was no push-over, and not even Moira Dearden Queen would convince her to compromise her principals.

"I'm delighted to hear it," Felicity answered calmly. "But the matter is bigger than just William being left alone in a park in an area known to be very dangerous. The fact is, Mrs. Queen, that William is regularly in the presence of a drug addict who also seems to be a budding alcoholic. In addition, William's maternal grandparents have apparently expressed concerns over his father's custody of him, and given the new facts, I am obligated to investigate whether or not they are right about that.

Given my conversation with Will, I felt that I had no other choice but to remove him temporarily from his home. Hopefully, custody will be returned to your son on Monday, but either way I will be remaining in contact with William to ensure his wellbeing for an undetermined amount of time. Nothing you say can change that, madam, because money does _not_ place you and your family above the law, regardless of what history may have taught you."

Moira's expression had gotten steadily darker with every word out of Felicity's mouth, and her lips were so tightly pursed that Felicity couldn't see them anymore.

"How much to make all of this go away and have William returned to us?" Moira asked flatly. "Name your price."

"As I just said, Mrs. Queen," Felicity returned. "Money does not put your family above the law. I don't have a price, because I don't care about material things. Anything I need or want, I already have. I have a duty to protect the children of the United States, counting your grandson, and that is what I am going to do. On Monday, we will have a custody hearing, and the judge will hear the facts, and decide what to do. It may be that news of your daughter's actions come out in that, but her addictions aren't exactly a secret, are they?"

The older woman's grey-blue eyes flashed angrily at the jab, and she rose to her feet, fists clenching. Felicity stood as well, chin lifted in defiance.

"Making an enemy of me is a bad idea," Moira warned her. "I can ruin your career."

"You can try," Felicity acknowledged. "Go right ahead. You can't do so in time to stop the hearing, and even then, I'd still be called in to testify."

"I hoped to find a reasonable woman here," Moira sniffed, twisting on her heel to head for the door. She paused, looking over her shoulder and casting Felicity a warning look. "But clearly not. I warn you, Miss Smoak. Actions have consequences."

"Maybe if you had taught that lesson to your children, instead of just paying to cover up their every mistake, your family wouldn't be in this situation in the first place," Felicity retorted, relieved her phone had caught everything. She scooped it up and kept it hidden in her hand as she followed Moira to the door, watching her stalk out wordlessly, fury radiating from her polished form. Felicity raised the phone to catch a shot of the woman's silhouette and face as she ducked into her car, ensuring there could be no doubt as to who had threatened her.

She ended the video, then watched it on her phone to make sure that it had gotten everything. Thankfully, it had. Felicity downloaded it to her computer before saving it to a USB stick, and texted Iris. Whenever she was threatened by an angry parent or guardian, Felicity recorded it and gave a copy to her journalist sister, saving a spare to her cloud, just in case they followed through.

It had happened once before, back in her first year working. A furious drug addicted but loving mother had threatened to kill her if she took her son away. Felicity had still taken custody of the boy away, and subsequently been attacked with a kitchen knife. Thankfully, Joe had insisted she (as well as Iris) carry a taser for protection, and she had managed to use it to defend herself while calling 9-1-1. She had a small scar on her upper arm to remember the incident. It had taught her to be cautious, and that caution had protected her on more than one occasion.

_'I have something I need to give you. Coffee at 3 2morrow ok?'_

_'Defo!'_ Her foster sister responded promptly. _'BTW, kids r ok. Upset & W confused 2, but ok. Sleeping now.'_

_'Thnx'_ Felicity texted back with a heavy sigh. She glanced at the clock. Ten at night. She usually went to bed at eleven, but it had been a long, draining day. She drained her drink, turned off her paused TV, and went to collapse into bed.

She was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

* * *

The day after Laurel left him at the park and Felicity brought him to stay with Iris and Barry, William was playing with the Nintendo 2DS Barry had given him to use while he was there in his room. But his heart wasn't in it, and not just because the Nintendo was way out of date, especially compared to his one at home. His dad always ensured he had the best toys on the market, as soon as, or sometimes before, they were released to the public. This version was boring and scratched, having been used by more than half of the children who had passed through the WestAllen home in the past few years.

Despite his efforts not to think about what was happening and avoid getting upset, Will couldn't focus properly on the game. He wanted to go home, to be with his dad again. Iris and Barry were nice, and so was Zoe, and the babies were cute, but it wasn't home.

He didn't understand properly why he was here, except that his dad was in trouble because of Laurel leaving him at the park. It didn't seem fair that Dad was in trouble because of what Laurel did. At the same time, Felicity was so nice, it was hard for Will to be mad at her for taking him away, even if it was only for a little while. Something about the smiling blonde woman reminded him of his mom. That made him feel worse, making him miss Samantha fiercely and feel guilty, like he was betraying her somehow.

What if he never saw Dad again, like he wasn't going to see Mom? Will's face crumpled at the thought as he fought the tears stinging his eyes.

There was a knock at the door, and a moment later Felicity herself peered inside. "Hello, Will," she greeted him gently, smiling softly at him. "Can I come in and talk to you?"

"Okay," he mumbled, focused on his game and not looking at her.

"What are you playing?" She asked, perching on the side of the bed.

"Super Mario Bros 2," he replied. "I'm on level three now."

"Oh, very good," she complimented him. "Will, would you pause the game for a few moments while we chat please?"

He sighed heavily but did as she asked, setting it aside and turning to her, folding his arms over his chest and glaring at the bedspread.

"William, I know things were kind of rushed yesterday," she began. "So do you have any questions for me?"

"When can I go back to Dad?" Will demanded immediately.

She reached out and took his hands in her own, rubbing her thumbs over the back of his palms. "Hopefully tomorrow," she replied gently. "You'll definitely see him then, at the hearing. Do you know what a court hearing is?"

Will shook his head, and she continued.

"That's okay, not many your age do. Basically, what happens is that, when an adult does something that breaks the law, which are rules that adults have to follow, they go in front of a judge and have a hearing, where the judge decides how they will be punished for it. Got it?"

"How did Dad break the law?" Will frowned.

"Well, from how you've spoken, your dad has been benignly neglectful," she explained carefully. "Which means that, for a while once you're back with him, someone, probably me, will have to come and make sure that he's not letting you be around dangerous people."

"Dangerous people?" William repeated in bemusement. "Dad doesn't let me be around dangerous people. He's really careful."

She hmmed. "Well, there are a few people who you shouldn't be around," she told him. "Like Laurel. She was drinking alcohol, remember? Your dad shouldn't have left her in charge of you. And you said that your grandparents don't like you living with your dad. Because of this, we might have to see if they're right and you're better off living with them and seeing your dad on weekends and stuff. But I promise, I will do everything I can to make sure that you go home ASAP. As soon as possible."

Will nodded glumly. He believed in Felicity's sincerity, but he didn't like the whole situation. He looked at her thoughtfully. "Why are you in charge of this?" He asked. He had never met Felicity before yesterday, and he didn't think his dad had either. It puzzled him why she was suddenly making decisions about him when he didn't know her.

"Well, I'm a social worker," she replied. "My job is to make sure that kids live in safe houses."

"Why'd you decide to be a social worker?" William pressed curiously. "Was your dad one?"

She blinked in bemusement, shaking her head. "No, he wasn't. Why did you think that?"

"'Cause Grandma says that Dad's grandpa was in charge of QC before Grandpa Robert, and now Dad is in charge, and she says that when I'm older, I'll take over from him. So I thought that maybe it was the same for you."

She looked sad as she shook her head again. "No. Would you like to know why I chose to become a social worker?"

"Yes," he confirmed, shuffling closer to her. He was pleased when she wrapped an arm around his shoulders, rubbing his arm gently.

"Well, my dad wasn't a nice person," she told him softly. "And he left when I was little."

"He _left_?" William was shocked. Even when Dad was so busy that he didn't seem him until the weekend, he always did his best to make up for, called to say goodnight. He had come running when Mom died. Will couldn't picture Oliver ever leaving him willingly.

"Yes," she confirmed. "And then my mom took medicine that made her very angry, and she wasn't allowed to look after me anymore because of it. My grandmother took care of me for awhile, but when I was nine she got sick and died."

"Oh no," William said in dismay. It was terrible. Felicity was so nice, why did so many bad things happen to her?

"Yes, I was very upset," she confirmed tiredly. "So after that I went into foster care. And I ended up being placed with the Wests. Iris' mom and dad. And I was so happy at being in a safe home where I was loved, that I decided I wanted to help other children in unsafe homes be put with families who would look after them properly. That's why I became a social worker."

"I'm sorry that you weren't safe," Will told her solemnly, curling into her.

"Me too," she replied softly. "But I'm happy now. And I promise, I'm going to make sure that you're safe and happy too."


	6. Arrangements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monday arrives, and with it the hearing

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Thanks to everyone who's enjoying this story. As mentioned in Chap 1, I don't know a thing about the law, court proceedings of any type, or the social care system. I know even less about the American system, given I've been in the US twice for holidays, so everything is made up and creative licence is taken for it all. Please don't complain about inaccuracy, this is called** _**fan** _ **fiction for a reason.**

**Remember to follow health guidelines, adhere to social distancing and wear masks!**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Six**

**Arrangements**

The first thing Felicity did when she arrived at work each day was organize her schedule and tasks for the day. Today was going to be a busy one.

Last week, after a month of failed attempts to track down the two archaeologists, she had finally managed to get into contact with Nathaniel Heywood and his fiancée Amari Jiwe to inform them that Heywood's cousin Patricia had died in a car accident and he was now the only relative available to take custody of her sons, as her ex-husband's parental rights had been terminated. The couple had quickly organized to fly back to Starling from the dig in India they had been on, and Felicity was due to meet them this morning to start going over arrangements for them to be approved to take custody for Chris and Tyson.

Then she had three home visits to do. First, she'd go and check in with Samantha Arias and her daughter Ruby. Samantha was a lovely single mother who had been diagnosed with schizophrenia. She was on medication and living with her mother, and her psychologist had declared her to be stable, but Felicity still needed to check in regularly and make sure that Ruby was alright.

Then she wanted to see how Kara was settling in with the Danvers. The young girl was struggling not, no surprise after her country was ravaged by an earthquake that killed all of her family save her cousin Kal. Unfortunately, Felicity hadn't been able to keep the two together despite her best efforts, but she had managed to persuade the two families to allow the pair to stay in contact, something they had all easily agreed to, fortunately.

Kal had been placed with a lovely family living in Starling's suburbs, the Kents. They doted on their new son, and from what Felicity had seen, Kara seemed to be welcome at their home to visit him whenever she desired. The young boy himself was adjusting much better, but that was to be expected. After all, he was only four, while Kara was thirteen.

The Danvers family was also doting on their new daughter, but Kara had confided to Felicity about her struggle to cope with her feelings of guilt at enjoying being their daughter and Alex's sister, feeling as if she were betraying her birth family. Felicity had assured her otherwise, but God knew emotions weren't that easy. Due to Kara's struggles, Felicity was still visiting her more often than she would typically, given it had been five months since her placement. It was easiest to do so during the day, as Kara was still being homeschooled to get her caught up with her peers.

After that, she would have to collect Zoe from school and take her to meet the Pierces. Thankfully, Iris had agreed to drop her stuff at Felicity's office during her lunch, sparing her the need to drive to the WestAllen house too. After that, Will's custody hearing was at five-thirty, having been added late to the docket. Felicity noted that it would be overseen by Judge Howard, a good friend of Cecile, with a record of being staunch and unyielding in her principals. Good. Felicity had worried that when she had refused Moira's bribe, the woman might try to get Grell, one of the most corruptible and bribeable men Felicity had ever been unfortunate enough to meet, to oversee it.

All in all, a busy day, the social worker concluded as she looked over her timetable. She would probably have to be quicker with Zoe's drop off than she preferred. Usually she spent an hour helping the child settle in and get a bit more comfortable with their new foster family, but given the locations of the Pierce house and the courthouse, she'd only be able to stay about twenty minutes at most, less if there was bad traffic.

Her landline rang and she answered quickly. "Yes?" She said politely.

"Hey, Felicity, it's Miranda," Miranda Coburn, the secretary of the building, replied. "There's a Dr Nathaniel Heywood and Dr Amaya Jiwe here to see you. Shall I send them up?"

"Yes, thanks," Felicity agreed. "Thanks Miranda."

"No problem," she dismissed. "See you later."

"See you later," Felicity repeated before they hung up. She quickly smoothed out her skirt and top, patting her hair to ensure no strands were sticking up, and stood with a smile of greeting just as the couple that she assumed were Dr Heywood and his fiancée appeared at the entrance to her small office.

"Ms. Smoak?" Dr Heywood asked hesitantly. "I'm Nate Heywood and this is my fiancée Amaya. We spoke on the phone."

"Nice to meet you in person, Doctor," Felicity replied warmly, reaching out to shake their hands firmly. "Please come in and take a seat. I'm afraid we have a busy morning ahead of us."

"Are Chris and Tyson alright?" Jiwe inquired, brow furrowed in concern. It boded well that she was worried about the two grieving boys. "You said they weren't in the car when the crash happened"

"That's right, they were both at home with a babysitter," Felicity confirmed. "It seems that Ms. Heywood had gone out for a night with her friends. She took a taxi home, but, as I informed you on the phone, a drunk driver ran a red light and hit the side. The boys are unhurt, but of course they're very upset. They're currently staying in the local group home run by Mary Xavier."

"When can we see them?" Heywood asked anxiously. "Patty and I were always very close, and I'm godfather for both the boys. She put me down as their guardian if something happened to her after the divorce. Her ex can't cause problems, can he?"

"He shouldn't, given his parental rights were terminated," Felicity confirmed. "And once we're done with the paperwork you can see the boys, but I'm afraid I need to have a stable address and have cleared your house as safe for them before you can take them home."

"Oh, we have a house, but it's in Central City," Amaya commented with a frown. "I inherited it. It's closed up at the moment, but it can be reopened quick enough I expect. The furniture and décor are a bit dated, but it should be fine. We can call a cleaning service to sort the place out."

"Well, that should be fine," Felicity agreed, scratching down the information. "Can I have the address please?"

After that, she found herself buried in the work of guiding the two guardians-to-be through the nitty-gritty process of taking custody of two boys. It was the best part of two hours before they were done for the day, and they still had more to do. Still, Felicity had a good feeling about the pair, especially after she led them to the group home and saw how close the boys were to their cousin and how warmly Amaya acted towards them, although the fact that they didn't know her well was clear too from their uncertain manner towards her.

Felicity left them to spend some time together while she headed off to see the Arias family, bracing herself for a trial. Samantha, when on her medication, was a kind woman and loving mother, and Ruby was a sweet young girl. Samantha's mother, however, was haughty and arrogant and blatantly looked down on Felicity, as well as clearly being disapproving of her daughter's status of single motherhood, even though she also loved both her child and grandchild. She'd probably get along well with Moira Queen.

Felicity shook the thought away and focused on driving. She had stuff to do, and Will wasn't the only one of her kids who deserved her full attention and efforts, no matter much she cared about him already. She would deal with the Queens later, right now her focus had to be on Ruby.

* * *

Oliver had never been so anxious in his life, save perhaps the day that William was born. He knew from his talks with Jean and Lynn Vang, the family law attorney they had hastily hired for the case, that even if custody wasn't returned to him today, there was no grounds to outright terminate his parental rights, so it didn't mean he would lose his son entirely. But he was desperate. He wasn't about to win any 'Dad of the Year' awards, but he really did love his son with everything in him. He had to get him back.

Ms. Vang had given him some advice on how to be as prepared as possible for the hearing. On her instructions, he had gotten Raisa, the Diggles, and Tommy to all come to act as character witnesses. Given that Raisa also acted as an unofficial nanny for Will, her testimony would be doubly important. He wore his best Hugo Boss suit, grey with a dark blue button-up shirt beneath and had answers prepared for a list of questions Ms. Vang said were likely to be asked.

They arrived early and were directed to wait outside the courtroom. Jean and Ms. Vang spent the time giving their group some last-minute instructions on what to do and say in the hearing.

Finally, the door to the courtroom opened and they were allowed to enter. Looking around, he spotted his son being led in by Ms. Smoak and an Asian woman in a pantsuit. Will made to come over to him, but was stopped by his social worker, who crouched to speak to him quietly. Jean placed a hand on Oliver's arm, silently reminding him that he wasn't allowed to speak to Will just yet. As hard as it was, Oliver resisted the urge to rush over and gather his son close, never letting him go again.

"Everything'll be fine, man," John whispered to him as they separated.

He nodded stiffly, unable to draw his gaze away from Will, who had taken a seat on the opposite side of the room and accepted the tablet Ms. Smoak had passed him. He was pouting but quiet as he tapped away at the screen, sitting just behind the social worker and the woman that Oliver assumed was the lawyer for Starling's DCPS.

"All rise for the Honourable Judge Theresa Howard!" The bailiff ordered as the black-robed woman strode in from her office and took her place at the front of the room. It was a small room, given it was a family hearing room instead of one for criminal cases, and Oliver almost wished it was bigger. Will was so close, the urge to reach out and gather him into a hug, apologizing for failing him so badly by leaving him with Laurel, was almost crippling.

"Be seated," Judge Howard ordered them.

"Docket number 6692, Starling City Department of Child Protective Services versus Oliver Queen, is now in session," the bailiff announced, handing over a slip of paper to the judge, who scanned it quickly before setting it down.

"Alright," she stated. "Let's begin."

\\\\\\\\\

Oliver was kind of surprised at how quick the whole thing was. He had assumed it would take longer, though he couldn't call it a short procedure either. The judge had heard testimony from everyone, including Felicity Smoak who was kinder towards him than Oliver had expected. Especially given she had announced and provided proof in the form of a recording that his mother had tried to bribe and threaten her to make everything go away. He'd felt sick when she said that. Now, on top of everything else, he was going to have to worry about his mother being arrested for attempting to coerce a government official.

"From my conversations with William, I don't foresee any problems with returning custody to his father under several conditions," Smoak had informed Judge Howard. "First of all, and most importantly, contact between William and Thea Queen, Moira Queen and Laurel Lance needs to be strictly prohibited. In addition, the Department recommends that Mr. Queen hire a fulltime nanny to watch his son when he's busy with work.

While Ms. Knyazev seems to be a very loving woman, the situation is not stable enough for our comfort, as her main job seems to be as housekeeper for Mr. Queen's family home, not even the home he currently resides in. From her own testimony, she watches Will as a favour to Mr. Queen, and she isn't properly qualified to act as his nanny. If a family member is unable to care for William during the times when his father is unavailable, a fulltime carer with the correct qualifications needs to be in residence instead.

We also believe that William ought to begin attending counselling to help him cope with losing his mother and moving to Starling from Central. It may be relatively close geographically, but any move is a significant change for a child his age, especially coming on the heels of such a big loss. Counselling will help him come to terms with all of the upheaval his life has gone through over the past eighteen months since his mother's death.

Finally, as with all cases of guardians who lost custody for however long and whatever reason, regular and unexpected home visits need to be conducted for a minimum of a year."

The bit about a nanny and therapist had come as a surprise to Oliver, but he supposed that he saw the sense in it. Really, he should have thought of sending Will to a therapist earlier, but his mother had insisted that if he had a problem, Will would come to him. He'd dropped the ball there as well.

His own testimony had come next, and he had been quick to inform the judge that he had already cut all contact with his sister until she had gotten clean, and that he had broken up with Laurel and was in the process of having his family's legal team press charges against her from what had happened with William, including having a restraining order put in place.

"As for my mother's attempt to bribe and threaten Ms. Smoak, I want to extend my sincerest apologies for that," he went on. "I swear, I had no idea she would do that, and I don't support her actions at all. If cutting contact with her is necessary for me to regain custody of my son, then that's what I'll do. I know I haven't been the best father, but Will means everything to me. I swear I'll do better from now on."

He had actually felt tears of relief prick his eyes when Judge Howard had then agreed to allow William to come home with him, so long as he followed Ms. Smoak's recommendations. After that, the whole thing was wrapped up and Oliver, his two lawyers, Will, Ms. Smoak and the Asian woman all filed into another room to discuss arrangements, while the Diggles and Tommy congratulated him before hurrying off. Well, Raisa, Lyla and Tommy headed off. Tommy had a date with Cait, and Lyla needed to collect the twins from their afterschool swimming class. John, as Oliver's driver, went to wait in the car.

He owed them all something huge as thanks, especially as they'd all testified to his love for his son.

"Daddy!" Will cried when they were finally able to greet each other. Oliver picked him up, embracing him tightly and kissing his forehead before pulling away to stroke his hair out of his forehead.

"Will, buddy, I'm so glad to see you," he told him hoarsely. "I'm so sorry, Buddy. I'd never have left you with Laurel if I had known she would leave you alone."

Will nodded solemnly. He'd always been a clever child. Far cleverer than either of his parents at that age.

Oliver had always slacked off, coasting his way through life on his trust fund until the crash that turned his life around. Samantha, meanwhile, had been clever enough but more on the high side of average than anything else.

Will, meanwhile, had managed to build a miniature Mars Rover, complete with working light and wheels, at five. Granted, it was from a set, but all the same. It had been for 9-11-year-olds, not a five-year-old. Before she died, Oliver and Samantha had been talking about maybe organizing an IQ test for him, but then she was in her own car crash, a fatal one, and he had put it to the side, more concerned with Will's emotional development. He'd always been smart, but his mother's death had matured him and turned him introverted as well. He had been a lot more outgoing before her death. Nowadays he preferred reading or playing by himself to hanging out with other kids.

Oliver had thought he was managing an okay if not great balance between being a fulltime father and being CEO of Fortune 500 company, but having spent most of yesterday brooding over his actions since Sam's death last year, he realized that he'd been kidding himself. He'd already been casually dating Laurel when Sam died, but he should have broken up with her then, prioritized Will over himself. He had been selfish, and that was going to change. No more relationships, not until William was in college at the least. He was going to cut back his hours and stop working weekends too. From now on, Will would be his top priority.

"It's okay, Daddy," Will replied. "I know you didn't mean for that to happen. And now 'Licity's my friend, and she wouldn't be if I hadn't been at the park, so there's the silver lining. Iris said I should look for a silver lining in everything."

"Who's Iris?" Oliver blinked, putting the comment about 'Licity' to the side for the moment.

"I stayed with Iris and Barry for the weekend," Will explained. "They're emergency foster parents, and 'Licity is Iris' sister, even though they look really different. They have twin babies, and another is gonna be born in March, and they're really nice. Iris let me help feed DJ and Dawn, and Barry helped me build a Lego Space Shuttle earlier. 'Licity took a picture of us with it and she said that she'll print it out for me, but I couldn't bring it with me 'cause they need their toys for the other kids they look after. I have my own Legos at home, anyway, so it's alright."

Oliver smiled weakly. "That's great kiddo," he said, trying to squash the sting of jealousy directed at 'Barry'. They'd only spent a few days together, yet Will sounded very admiring of the man.

"Yeah, Barry and Iris are really cool," Will declared. "Iris writes for the Starling City Gazette, and Barry works for the police. He's a forensic scientist! That means that he uses science to help the detectives solve crimes. That's so cool, isn't it Dad?"

"Very," Oliver agreed, feeling strained. He'd never done well in science or maths stuff. He wouldn't have passed the courses at all if not for his parents' bribery. Even now, he needed the explanations to be dumbed down considerably when one of his inventors came to him with ideas for a project. On the other hand, he flourished in languages and the more 'human' related subjects such as English or history. But his son's love of science was something Oliver was unable to connect with him over, and it bothered him.

"Will, honey," Ms. Smoak intervened. "How about you tell your dad about your weekend on the way home? We have some stuff to sort out right now."

Will looked disappointed, but he sighed and nodded. Oliver was surprised and pleased when, after they had all sat, his son clambered into his lap, something Will hadn't done since Sam's death.

"So, Mr. Queen," Ms. Smoak began. "I'm Felicity Smoak, as you know. I'll be Will's social worker from now on, and I will be the one conducting checks on your home for the next year. This is Shado Gulong, our department's lawyer."

"Pleasure," he gave his press smile, reserved for journalists and potential investors or business partners he was trying to charm. He wanted Ms. Smoak on his side, after all. Thankfully, she didn't seem to be against him, despite his epic failures. It boded well, and he dared to be tentatively hopeful about the future. "Call me Oliver, please. And again, I want to apologize for my mother's actions. Maybe I should have predicted she would do so, but I truly never considered the possibility."

"It's Felicity," Ms. Smoak replied calmly. "And yes, I believe that. I got the impression from her that you weren't aware of her visit. But thanks for the apology. At any rate, as to the conditions-"

"I already got a lock added to the alcohol cabinet," Oliver inserted hastily. "I thought it was out of Will's reach, but I guess I forgot how much he's grown. Honestly, I only have a small bit of alcohol on occasion. The wine is just there for when I have friends over, and I never drink with Will around."

"A big change from your history," Ms. Gulong noted coolly, though not cruelly. More like she was simply stating a fact, which she was. Oliver still winced while Will looked puzzled and Jean and Ms. Vang both stiffened.

"Mr. Queen's history-" Jean began in a sharp voice. Felicity cut her off.

"I apologize for my colleague's remark, Mr. Queen," she said, shooting a stern look at the woman. "It was out of line. I believe that you're not a regular drinker, Will's testimony supports that. Installing a lock is an excellent start. You'll also need to make more permanent childcare arrangements, and organize a therapist for Will to see. We can give you a list of suitable candidates for both positions, if you like."

Grimacing, because he trusted Raisa with Will far more than any stranger and always would, Oliver nodded. Truthfully, he didn't even think about arrangements for watching William when everything happened. He just assumed that the housekeeper would look after him, same as how she had looked after he and Thea when they were kids. He probably owed her an apology for being such an entitled asshole.

"That would be helpful, thanks," he agreed. He'd take a look at the candidates and get Dig to investigate them more thoroughly before making any decisions. If he didn't like any of Felicity's suggestions, then he would look elsewhere. "Do I have to have it arranged by a deadline?"

"No, though sooner is better than later," she replied. "I understand that this is of course a very important matter, as you'll be trusting these people with your son's safety. Being careful about it is vital. That being said, if, say, a month's gone by and you haven't picked anybody, even just to try them out as a potential fit, I'll probably be suspicious that you're not looking into it."

"Understood," Oliver nodded, adjusting his grip on Will when the boy shifted on his lap. "And then the visits? How do they work?"

"Okay," Felicity breathed in and out. "They'll be irregular, and unannounced. At random times I will arrive at the house. I'll inspect the place to ensure that there are no potential dangers lying around where Will can easily get to them, and I'll conduct a private interview with Will as well, to make sure that everything really is fine and he's not saying so just because you're there. They usually last around an hour, and I will usually sit down at the end to speak to you as well.

I will also be giving Will my phone number, and should he need anything or feel endangered, he's welcome to call me. I also need to put onto the list of people allowed to remove him from school, and should there be any incidents, I need to be contacted. You'll get my number as well, obviously. In a year, if everything is going well and there have been no more concerns raised about your fitness to have custody, the whole thing will be settled, and my visits will end."

"Alright," Oliver agreed. "I-"

"Does that mean that in a year, you won't be around anymore?" William asked. He sniffled slightly, and Oliver could tell he was fighting tears at the prospect. Oliver had to admit to being surprised at the strong reaction his son had to the thought of not seeing Felicity again after next year. Will was so introverted and quiet, and he'd only met Felicity a few days ago! How had he gotten so attached to her already?

"You'll still have my number," Felicity assured him before Oliver could say anything. "I never abandon any of my kids, Will. I won't willingly leave you either, I promise."

There was something in her eyes that assured Oliver that she was deathly serious about that vow.


	7. The First Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver looks for a nanny and a psychologist, and the first home visit happens

**Bit of a filler chapter. Next one will be more active, I promise.**

**Btw, I have a question. In a lot of single parent/Oliver lives au fics, Felicity and/or Oliver have a daughter named Adalyn. There's an actual character tag for her, but I can't figure out where the idea for her came from. I know that Lucas Queen came from Felicity and Oliver's discussion on baby names in S7, but for Ada I'm lost. Just curious.**

**Again, I have no experience with foster care/social working, so all of it is creative license.**

**Glad you're all enjoying this, and thanks to everyone who's reviewing.**

**Read, enjoy and review**

**Chapter Seven**

**The First Visit**

Oliver studied the files in front of him carefully, making sure not to let any of his coffee or sandwich spill on the pages. He wanted to sort out a psychologist and nanny for William ASAP, so that he wouldn't give Felicity (as she had urged him to call her, him offering his own first name in return) any reason to doubt his commitment to being the best father he could possibly be. It had only been a few days since the custody hearing, but, with help from Lyla, who was an FBI agent and had done extra background checks on each of the recommendations given to him by Felicity, he had narrowed his choices for both positions down to three nannies and two psychologists.

He pressed the intercom for his EA's desk. "Gerry? Come in here for a second please," he requested, waiting for a confirmation before removing his finger from the button. After speaking to his former EA, he had ended up replacing her with Gerry Conway, who had used to work for Ray Palmer, his CTO. Another assistant had been hired to wrangle the scatter-brained scientist.

Meanwhile Karla, Oliver's original assistant, had apparently been instructed by his mother (yet another reason to be pissed at her) not to forward any calls unrelated to QC business when Oliver was working, even if it was an emergency or related to Will. Because she was following orders, Oliver hadn't fired her from the company. Because she had messed up severely by not informing him of his mother's instructions and thus causing him to lose custody for those few nightmarish days, he had demoted her and she was now working as an assistant in Human Resources.

But Oliver was pleased with Gerry, despite the short time they'd been working together. He was organized, experienced, professional, and had readily sworn that any calls mentioning Will would be immediately passed to Oliver, even if he was in the middle of a meeting with the entire board of directors.

"Mr. Queen?" Gerry entered. "What can I do for you?"

"Please contact Doctors Avery Prassnall and Lily Stein, child psychologists, and Jesse Wells, Lia Nelson and Sophie Moore," he instructed him as he held out the page with the names and numbers he had scribbled down. "Arrange for a meeting with the doctors and interviews with the nanny candidates. Tell them I have a seven-year-old who they would be looking after should I hire them, and I want to see if they'd be suitable for the job and if they'd get along with him. Here's the contact information for them all. I want it all arranged as soon as possible."

"Yes Sir," Gerry agreed as he took the list and shifted them into a better hold. "I'll do that right away. Remember you're Skyping the Japanese branch in twenty minutes about the budget for their R&D department."

"Right, thank you for the reminder, Gerry," Oliver nodded. "I'll start getting ready for that now."

"Very good Sir," the other man agreed. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, that's all thank you Gerry," Oliver assured him. The assistant nodded before leaving. Oliver cast one final glance at the files of the candidates before reluctantly turning his focus to studying his notes for the upcoming meeting.

As he had been doing for the past few days, Oliver left work early and went to collect Will. His kid was a busy one. Being a miniature genius, William was seven years old, attending grade 3, having skipped first grade. That meant that he was a year or two younger than the other students in his class, and had also transferred in mid-way through last year after Sam's death. As an unfortunate result, Will hadn't made friends with the other kids in his class.

To try and offset that, Oliver had enrolled him in the afterschool study option as well as the junior baseball team in the hope of encouraging him to come out of his shell. It had worked to a degree. Will was now friends with the Yamashiro children, Damien Wayne (much to Oliver's dismay-he hated dealing with Bruce Wayne), and a girl named Dinah Redmond, all of whom went to his school, though Dinah was there on a scholarship.

All of that meant that Will typically wasn't ready to go home until about four even though his classes finished up around two. The afterschool study allowed the students to stay until six. Up until now, Raisa or sometimes Thea would collect Will from school and take him back to the mansion until Oliver was done. But after the turmoil of the previous weekend, Oliver had been collecting his son himself, finishing up any extra work after tucking William into bed.

Today was Friday, meaning that Will was off early, so Oliver finished up his work and stowed some extra work relating to the upcoming budget meeting into his briefcase to look over once Will was in bed. Gerry was also gathering his things to leave, and John was waiting patiently by the elevator, speaking to Lyla on the phone, when Oliver left his office.

"Mr. Queen, I have those appointments arranged for you," Gerry informed him, holding out a slim file. "I arranged your timetable for next Monday. It's a bank holiday so William doesn't have school and can come with you, and both Dr Stein and Dr Pressnall are willing to meet with you both then. You'll meet Dr Pressnall at twelve-thirty, and Dr Stein at three. As for the nanny candidates, you have interviews with them on Sunday. Miss Wells at ten, Miss Nelson at one and Miss Moore at five-thirty. They'll come to the loft to meet you. I took the liberty of writing up a set of questions for you to ask them during the interviews. I looked up recommended questions and such, though of course it's your decision whether to use it or not."

Oliver scanned the list.

_Why did you become a nanny?_

_What experience do you have caring for children?_

_Are you trained in CPR and/or first aid?_

_Have you taken lessons in childcare?_

_What would you do if [insert scenario]?_

There were more of course. All in all, there were about forty questions written up, several of them ones that Oliver might not have thought to ask himself, but that he definitely would want answers to, such as whether the candidate was trained in self-defence or not. His son was a target for a ransom kidnapping. Oliver would feel much better if his caregiver was able to defend the both of them from something like that, even if he prayed it would never happen. In hindsight, he could recall several attempts to kidnap himself and Thea as kids, though at the time he hadn't really understood what was happening, and his parents had always had bodyguards protecting them, meaning none of the efforts had ever been successful, thank God.

"Thank you, Gerry," Oliver thanked his new EA as sincerely as he could. "That's a great help." His new assistant was a definite blessing. Oliver fully intended to hold onto him as long as possible.

"That's what I'm here for Sir," Gerry answered kindly. "Making your life easier. Have a good weekend with your son. I hope the interviews go well."

"Me too," Oliver replied ruefully. "And you as well. You deserve a nice restful weekend." It had been a busy week, especially given that Oliver had been determined to get as much done as early as he could each day to allow for collecting Will.

They had arrived at the carpark by then, and Oliver slid into the backseat after saying goodbye to Gerry, sighing tiredly and digging the heels of his palms into his eyes.

"Tired?" John asked sympathetically as they headed to the school.

"Exhausted," Oliver answered. "God, I hope those interviews go well and I can have a nanny selected quickly. I don't want to give any reason for Felicity to doubt my abilities as a parent more than she already does."

_**'Not that you wouldn't deserve it'**_ the dark voice of his insecurities, the one that had always been there and had surged to life with a vengeance after last weekend, hissed in the back of his mind. Of course, Felicity had been nothing but kind towards him during her first home visit on Wednesday, and Will already adored her. But all the same, what must she think of him?

"Oliver, man, you're a great dad," John insisted. "And Ms. Smoak'll see that. Hell, she already did, otherwise she wouldn't've been in favour of you regaining custody. Don't worry, okay? Everything is gonna be fine."

"Yeah," Oliver agreed unenthusiastically. Dig clearly wanted to say more, but they had just pulled up in front of the school, so he stayed quiet as Will rushed up to the car and scrambled inside.

"Hey Daddy," his son greeted him cheerfully. "Hey Uncle Dig. I got an A on my test."

"Great work Bud!" Oliver exclaimed, giving him a high-five.

"Yeah, great work Kiddo," Dig agreed, shooting him a thumbs up.

"How about bolognaise for dinner then?" Oliver suggested, knowing it was Will's favourite. Oliver loved cooking, and had attended multiple cooking classes over the years. One of those was an Italian cookery course, where he'd learned pasta making, how to make gnocchi, tiramisu and a bolognaise recipe that Will loved.

As expected, the young boy nodded rapidly, grinning excitedly. Oliver listened with a smile as he proceeded to babble on about his day, inserting responses where needed. John left them at the doorstep and Will went into his room to get changed out of his uniform while Oliver began putting together the ingredients for the sauce, pulling out some frozen homemade pasta to defrost.

Will came in and set himself up at the island with his science project as Oliver worked on the dinner, and they worked in companionable silence for a while until the intercom buzzed.

"Yes?" Oliver answered.

"Mr. Queen," Mr. Alvarez, the doorman, responded. "There's a Ms. Smoak here to see you. Says it's the first home visit?"

Oliver felt his throat close over in nerves as Will's head popped up, eyes widening in excitement on hearing the familiar name. He didn't seem to comprehend that Felicity could take him away. Oliver supposed it was a good thing that he liked his social worker so much, even if she made Oliver's stomach twist with nerves. He liked to tell himself that it was just because she was assessing his parenting ability, nothing else.

"Right," Oliver answered, heart pounding in his ears. "Send her up please."

"Yes Sir."

The intercom buzzed off and Oliver quickly looked around. The place was tidy enough. Neither he nor Will were slobs, and the building's cleaning service came through daily when Oliver was at work and Will at school. The only mess he could see were from Will's project on the island and the mess that always gathered to a point when cooking, even when he cleaned as he went. The alcohol cabinet was half-empty and had a brand-new lock installed, and he'd had a lock installed on the cabinet where he kept the meds, aspirin, panadol, etc. too, just in case.

There was a knock on the door, and Will ran to open it. Oliver hurried over to stop him.

"Wait, William," he instructed him firmly. "Let me get the door. You know that I don't want you answering it." That rule was a longstanding one. Will was not allowed to open the door alone. Both Oliver and Samantha had been enforcing it since he'd started trying at age four, but the young boy always tried to circumvent it.

Will pouted as Oliver checked the peephole, before pulling it open.

There she was. Blonde hair pulled into a ponytail, dressed in a pair of killer heels that matched her lipstick, and a wrap-around dress in teal, with silver earrings shaped as feathers that matched her necklace dangling from her lobes. She had a navy peacoat on over the dress, and a large, black (possibly faux) leather tote bag hung over her shoulder.

"Hello, Mr. Queen," she smiled. "I'm here for the first home visit."

"Ms. Smoak," Oliver cleared his throat, stepping out of the way to let her inside. "Please, come in."

"It's Felicity," she reminded him with a warm smile as she trotted in, digging a notebook covered with colourful swirls and a red pen out of her bag. "Thank you."

"If you're going to call me Mr. Queen, I'm going to call you Ms. Smoak," Oliver answered, his tone unintentionally teasing. She smirked softly, eyes twinkling in amusement.

"Touché," she commented. He grinned back before sobering as he recalled that this wasn't just a friend visiting his home.

"So, uh, how does this work?" Oliver asked nervously.

"Well," she began. "First, I need to do a check of the house, make sure that there aren't any dangers around where Will could be hurt by them. Then I need to interview him alone, to see how thing's been going since Monday. Speaking of, I should apologize. I would typically have visited earlier, but my timetable just didn't allow for it."

"No, don't worry about it," Oliver replied dismissively, even though the build-up of nerves as he waited for the first surprise visit had given him a semi-permanent migraine over the past couple of days.

"Well, shall we get started then?" Felicity asked brightly.

She really was a very beautiful woman.

"Yeah, definitely," Oliver agreed. He suddenly snapped his fingers, making both Felicity and Will (who was fidgeting silently at her side) to look at him curiously. "Just to say before I forget, I've narrowed down my choices for the positions of nanny and psychologist. There are three nanny candidates and two psychologists that I'm considering. Will and I have interviews with them all on Sunday and Monday, and I'll choose the ones he gets on with best."

"Very good," Felicity nodded approvingly, scribbling on her notepad. "And please make sure to tell me the names of them when you've made your decision."

"Of course," Oliver nodded. "Uhm, the sauce is cooking in the kitchen. Do you need me to show you around or can I-?"

"Go ahead," she advised, glancing down at Will. "How about you show me your place while your dad cooks, kiddo?"

He grinned gleefully, nodding like a bobble-head.

"Come see my bedroom first!" He exclaimed, tugging her by the hand towards his room. Oliver hated not going with them, but instead he quickly went into the kitchen to ensure the sauce didn't end up burnt.

* * *

Felicity listened patiently and intently to Will's chatter as he tugged her through the loft, showing off his home to her.

"So, kiddo," she said casually. "How've you been this past week?"

It was often better to have a casual chat instead of a formal interview with kids, to keep them comfortable and earn more trust.

"Good," Will grinned at her. "Dad let me skip school on Tuesday and we stayed at home and watched a Star Wars marathon and then we made pizza for dinner. Dad had a bunch of veg on his, but I had pepperoni instead. He made me put some peppers on too though, so I did have some veg." His expression and tone at the mention of the vegetables indicated that he shared the typical kid attitude towards greens. Not that Felicity had much room to talk, as she hated most veg too. She still ate it though. She simply compensated with a sweet dessert to remove the taste.

A health-food addict Felicity Smoak was _not._

"Sounds like a fun day," Felicity answered. In most cases, she wouldn't approve of a child skipping school when they weren't sick, but given the weekend they'd had, she decided to let it slide.

"And then I got an 'A' on my test earlier!" Will revealed proudly. "And Dad's picked me up every day this week, and he never does that! It's been brilliant. What about you? How was your week?"

"Oh, very busy," Felicity replied lightly. Actually, her week hadn't been very enjoyable. Rene Ramirez had gotten drunk after being informed that his parental rights were being officially terminated and he wouldn't get another chance to regain custody of Zoe. He had then showed up at the DCPS building and tried to attack her.

Felicity carried a taser with her everywhere she went, however, and she'd taken him down before he could do more than slam her up against a wall, resulting in a very mild concussion and some bruises on her back. Rene had been booked for assault, and any slim chance he might've had for visitation had evaporated. The head of the department, Susan Brayden, had then insisted she go home early and take the next few days off, despite Felicity's protests that she was fine. Actually, Susan had wanted her to take the whole week off. Two and a half days was the compromise, seeing as Felicity was due to be off for the weekend anyway.

However, she'd ended up spending the time with the WestAllens and her parents working on the nursery for Iris and Barry's coming baby, and that had been wonderful. All of them worked hard and for long hours, meaning it could be difficult to find time to spend together as a family. Any chance to be with them was one Felicity savoured. After her rough childhood, she would never be one to take the people she loved for granted.

"So, you spent the week with your dad mostly, then?" She changed the subject. "Did you see anyone else?"

"No," he shook his head. "Usually we'd see Aunt Thea, but I haven't seen her at all this week, and I heard Daddy tell Uncle Tommy that he'd blocked her calls. And Daddy says I'm not allowed to see or talk to Grandmama anymore either. He yelled at her over the phone. Said she could've ruined his case. I dunno what he meant though. He has a bunch of briefcases for work, so maybe she spilt a drink on one or something? It's really weird. Mo-Mommy didn't like me spending time with Grandmama, but Daddy always did what she wanted."

He looked puzzled and thoughtful, little nose scrunched up adorably as he tried to figure out why his father was so angry at his grandmother.

"When was this?" Felicity asked, inwardly satisfied with Oliver's actions. So many parents wouldn't bother with changing their lives to accommodate their kids, it was always wonderful to see ones that did.

There was something about single fathers who put the effort in to take care of their kids...

"Monday night," Will answered immediately. "He thought I was asleep, but I woke up because I had to get a glass of water."

Felicity hummed, reaching out to brush Will's bangs out of his forehead and smile at him. "It sounds like your dad is ready to dish up your dinner," she noted, hearing the sounds of plates being fetched and cutlery taken out of the drawer. "So I'd better go and leave you guys to eat in peace."

"Oh, no," Will objected. "You could stay and eat with us."

"Maybe next time," Felicity answered. "But as it is, I'm going to meet a friend of mine for dinner." She and Caitlin were going out to Jade Dragon. They tried their best to go out together once a month to catch up, but neither of them were fond of clubbing.

Will pouted in disappointment but nodded.

"Anyway," Felicity added. "I'll be back again next week for another visit. That okay?"

"That's great!" Will exclaimed with a broad grin.

They entered the kitchen, where Oliver was serving the dinner onto plates. "I was just about to come and ask if you're staying for dinner," he stated to Felicity on their entrance.

She shook her head. "No, thank you. I'm heading out now to meet up with a friend. Everything seems to be going well, so I'll be back over next week."

"Oh, great," he sighed in relief, eyes lightening at her approval. She smiled kindly at him, biting the inside of her cheek as she silently thanked God for her getting over her habit of inappropriate babble that had tormented her as a teenager. God knows the guy was an Adonis, she didn't want to say it aloud.

Thank God she was going to meet with Caitlin. She'd be able to groan about the injustice of off-limits, hot single fathers to a sympathetic ear who wouldn't tease her about it.


	8. The Article

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word finally breaks about social services becoming involved with the Queens

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Thanks to everyone enjoying this story.**

**This was one of those chapters that just wouldn't shape the way I wanted it to, and I'm not sure about it, but hopefully it's okay.**

**BTW, Cynthia Lacroix is from Earth-27, Sara's adopted daughter in that earth.**

**Chapter Eight**

**The Article**

_**OLIVER QUEEN: UNFIT FATHER?!** _

_**By Susan Williams, Star Reporter** _

_On Saturday 21st, William Queen (age 7), son and heir of the (in)famous Queen family, was found wandering alone around a park in the Glades. He was discovered by social worker Felicity Smoke, who promptly took him into the care of the foster system when her attempts to contact CEO Oliver Queen failed._

_During the course of her investigation into the Queens, Miss Smoke discovered that Mr. Queen had been leaving his son alone with his alcoholic girlfriend (D. Laurel Lance, ADA, currently suspended pending criminal charges from the Queen family), his drug addicted sister (who reportedly got high and had sex while babysitting, only for the child to find his aunt in a very inappropriate position with her boyfriend for a child to see!) and that William's maternal grandparents had expressed their worries for the safety of their grandson in Queen's so-called 'care'._

_Clearly, they were right to be worried._

_William spent the weekend in an emergency foster home while waiting for a custody hearing on Monday, as the DCPS worker decided against allowing him to be placed with his paternal relatives after their interview, and the Claytons, William's maternal family, were unavailable. However, William was returned to his father's custody at the hearing on Monday last week (no doubt due to bribery from the Queens). This is in spite of it being openly acknowledged that the Queens attempted to coerce and bribe Miss Smoke into returning William. Sources say that these reported bribes are the reason for the boy being sent back into a dangerous environment._

_We can only pray for the safety of the poor child, and hope that his father's neglect doesn't have negative effects on the grieving boy, whose mother Samantha Clayton died in a car crash early last year. Hopefully, the DCPS will continue to keep an eye on the family, and assign a new case worker who won't allow the Queens to use their money as a cover to let them endanger young William._

* * *

Oliver was furious when he read the article. The first thing he did was send a text to Jesse Wells, Will's new nanny (as the daughter of the owner of STAR Labs, Dr Harrison Wells, she was well-versed in all STEM related activities, leading to Will taking an immediate liking to her, quicker than with the other two candidates they'd met with. Combined with that and the fact that Jesse had a gun licence and a black belt in two types of martial arts, making her well-able to defend his son from any kidnappers, had gotten her the job) and warn her not let Will see it, least he become upset and confused, and to remind her to avoid anywhere the paparazzi might be. Then, he called Jean, who promised that she was already preparing to demand a retraction and see if there was enough falseness in the article to threaten a lawsuit.

While he was doing that, Gerry contacted Cat Grant, QC's Head of PR and organized for an emergency meeting to do damage control. By the time Oliver had hung up on Jean, she was waiting for him, a deep scowl on her face.

"How bad is it?" He grimaced.

"Bad," she replied flatly. "No one wants to support a child neglecter or abuser, and that's exactly what she's painting you as in this. There's just enough truth in it that getting it declared slander probably won't work. I have some of my people organizing a press conference for this afternoon. We'll prep a statement now. Tell me the whole story so I can figure out how to spin it."

Oliver sighed and rubbed his eyes. "It's not gonna sound good," he warned, before launching into the whole sorry tale.

As he spoke, he tried not to think about what Felicity would feel about the sordid affair. And whether it would affect her opinion on Will's custody or not.

* * *

When she learned about the article, Felicity was just after returning from Starling General. She'd been there since before dawn, dealing with her newest case. She hadn't even had a chance to get dressed professionally. Instead, she'd thrown on a pair of jeans and a blouse before running out the door. Thankfully, this wasn't the first time she'd had to deal with that situation, so she knew to keep a change of clothes in her office.

As she changed, she brooded over her newest charge. A woman, Sandra Hawke, had been in a car accident with her toddler son, when her car had skidded off the round due to a patch of black ice. Unfortunately, Sandra had been killed in the crash. The brave woman had realized she had lost control and undid her belt in order to cover her son with her body to protect him. Thankfully, her sacrifice had worked, and Connor had survived without a scratch. But as Connor's father, Ben Turner, was in prison for multiple counts of murder, and Connor had no other relatives living, the young boy was going into the system.

There was a small silver lining in that he was only three, so he still had a reasonably good chance of being adopted. Not as good as a baby, but better than a school-aged child. It was sad and infuriating, but true.

Felicity just had to think of whom she could put him with. He was due to be discharged tomorrow, and she'd have to place him in Mary Xavier's group home until she had a longer-term solution sorted out, but as soon as her next meeting was over she intended to grab a stack of files of adopting couples and start looking through them.

At least, that was her plan until her phone buzzed with an alert that an article had just been released mentioning the Queens. Seeing as Will was one of her kids now, Felicity had figured she ought to put an alert on the family, to help keep an eye on them and ensure that Oliver was keeping to his word and ensuring that his son had no contact with his addict sister or corrupt mother. She thought he would, he seemed like a good man struggling to juggle too many hats. But she had to do everything she could for Will, so she would prepare for worst case scenarios.

Felicity was furious when she read the article, but she didn't have time to call Oliver and ask to speak to him about it as she was going into a meeting with Leonard Snart and his fiancé Ray Terrill. The couple were trying to adopt Leo's teenage sister Lisa, but it was proving difficult, as Leo had a criminal record for theft in adulthood, plus a juvie record. He was a reformed man now, working an honest job as a mechanic while Ray worked as an electrician, but most judges were wary of allowing an ex-con custody of an impressionable teenage girl, who was already proving herself difficult, skipping classes, backtalking and committing petty theft on a semi-regular basis. They thought giving Leo custody would worsen Lisa's attitude (and one judge was just an outright homophobe, one of the archaic types who seemed to think that being gay was contagious or something). This was their third attempt to try and gain custody.

Felicity disagreed with the idea that Lisa living with her brother and his husband-to-be was a bad one. In her opinion, the girl would straighten out once she was back with her brother, whom she adored and who had turned his life around to rise above his difficult childhood with an abusive father and foster care. And Ray, despite having grown up a Glades kid, had never put a toe out of line, and had prospered when he opened his own electrician's business after attending SCU on a scholarship. They were good role models if you looked past Leo's occasionally snide attitude and their rough exteriors. And it hadn't escaped Felicity's notice that Lisa's attitude always got worse after she was told that she couldn't live with them yet.

The desperate desire to stay with a particular family and not being allowed for whatever reason was one that Felicity knew well. It was why she always fought so hard for her charges to be allowed to stay in homes where they actually dared to lower the walls foster kids always learned to build early on in the system.

"Hey Felicity," Leo held out a hand for a shake as she smiled politely at him. Ray nodded in greeting, smiling slightly.

"Long day?" The quieter of the pair asked sympathetically.

She smiled more genuinely now, with more than a hint of ruefulness in it. "Is it that obvious?" She sighed. "I had to get up at four in the morning to go to the hospital for a new kid," she explained vaguely. "And I've just learned about a problem with another of my kids that I need to sort out. So yeah. Long day, but what can you do about it?"

They gave her sympathetic looks. "I can't understand how you do this shit every day," Leo commented as they sat down. "I'd never manage it."

Felicity shrugged a shoulder. "I have a good support system," she answered lightly. It was the truth. For someone who'd been so alone as a kid, it sometimes still stunned her how many people cared about and loved her now. Her family, friends, and she also had a wonderful therapist, Kelly Olsen.

"At any rate, enough about my bad day," Felicity clapped her hands together and smiled. "I have some good news," she announced. They gained hopeful expressions, their hands entwining as they looked at her expectantly. "So, I've gotten Judge Moss to sign off on you two becoming Lisa's foster parents. She can come and live with you. If she adjusts properly, starts attending school consistently, stops with the pickpocketing, etcetera, then you'll have an excellent chance at adoption."

They beamed in delight, Leo turning and pulling Ray into an ecstatic kiss. Felicity watched them with a soft smile, slightly wistful at how clearly in love the pair were. She would love to have a family of her own, but her experience with Cooper in college, as well as the various miserable marriages she had seen as a foster child and social worker (including her birth parents'), had made her hesitant to date. Her busy and erratic schedule didn't help either. The two relationships she'd had since Cooper had both crumbled due to her putting her kids first. But it wasn't something she'd agree to change. If she ever did find someone, they'd just have to accept that.

"So, can we get her today?" Leo asked eagerly once they'd separated and turned back to her.

Felicity nodded, grabbing a file and flipping it open to reveal a bunch of forms. "We need to deal with these first," she stated. "But after that, you're free to pick her up and take her home with you. I've already done a home inspection last month, so we don't have to do another."

"Fabulous!" Leo declared, the hint of his hidden flamboyant side coming out as he clapped, making Ray grin amusedly at him. "Where do we sign?"

/\\\\\\\

After the meeting was over, Felicity was putting away Lisa's file when Miranda called her.

"Felicity, there's a couple here to see you," the receptionist informed her. Felicity could hear her frown in her voice. "They say they're Frank and Irene Clayton, and they're looking for William Queen's case worker."

"Oh," Felicity blinked in surprise. She had yet to meet the Claytons, though Will had mentioned when she was over that his grandparents were due to return on Sunday. "Yes, send them up, thanks."

"Alright, just a minute," Miranda agreed. There was a muffled few words of conversation before she spoke into the receiver again. "They're on their way up."

"Alright, thanks Miranda," Felicity murmured before hanging up and retrieving Will's file, guiltily pushing back finding a place for Connor again.

There was a picture of the Claytons with their daughter and grandson hanging in Will's room, so Felicity recognized the pair as soon as they stepped off the lift into the direct line of her door window. "Mr and Mrs Clayton?" She called, stepping into the main part of the floor, lined with cubicles and with small offices along the sides. Felicity had only just received a personal office a few months ago, her promotion an award for her success. It was tiny, a cubicle with walls, but she had made the space her own and was very proud to have climbed the ranks so fast.

"Miss Smoak?" Frank Clayton checked gruffly as the couple made their way over to her. She smiled politely and nodded.

"Yes, I'm Felicity Smoak," she confirmed. "I take it you're here to discuss William?"

"That's right," Mrs Clayton agreed. "We only returned late Sunday and haven't had the chance to speak with William yet. We found out about the whole thing from that article!" Her voice was outraged. Felicity smiled patiently and waved for them to join her in her office.

"Of course, I'm sure you're very upset about this whole situation," Felicity said soothingly. "Please, come in. I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

/\\\\\

An hour later, Felicity let out a loud sigh and slumped deeper into her chair. It was one of the fancy padded ones that were good for your back, draped in a turquoise cover. Joe and Cecelia had given it to her for a promotion gift. It had done wonders for her back.

The Claytons weren't bad people, Felicity acknowledged. But it was obvious that they didn't believe anything contrary to their conviction that Oliver was the same trust fund playboy billionheir he'd been when he got their daughter pregnant. Given their ages, Felicity suspected a lot of that had to do with Oliver not marrying Samantha when she got pregnant, given Irene bringing it up to complain, as if Felicity had any influence at all about that situation. They had tried to subtly convince her that she should declare Oliver unfit and let them take custody of their grandson, but Felicity had made it clear that she didn't think it was in William's best interests. He was still dealing with losing one parent, it would be too much to take his only living one away as well. Unless she saw hard evidence that being with Oliver was detrimental to Will, she intended to keep him there. That, at least, had ended their interview.

"You good?" Another case worker, Anna Palmer (née Loring), asked kindly, sticking her head around Felicity's door. She was a few years older than Felicity, but they'd graduated together, given Felicity had skipped two grades. As they'd started together, Anna had become a good friend. She proved this fact all over again by extending a cup of steaming coffee.

Felicity let out a groan of thanks as she took the cup, sighing at the warmth that seeped into her. "I've been up since four, and the day's not even half over yet," she informed Anna glumly. The other woman made a face of sympathy.

"That sucks," she said kindly. "Listen, I have to go for a home inspection, but I'll be picking up some Triple B on the way back to the office. Want some?"

"Always," Felicity replied immediately. "You're a lifesaver and I love you."

Anna laughed and winked at her cheekily. "Better keep it down, my friend, else Ray'll get jealous," she teased. Felicity smirked back, sipping her coffee.

"Who's the family, by the way?" The blonde asked as Amelia adjusted her coat and handbag. Felicity herself reached out to pick up her work phone and prepare to dial Oliver's number to discuss the article.

"A couple looking to adopt Cynthia Lacroix," the brunette replied. "The couple's names are Sara Lance and Nyssa Raatko according to their file. This is the first time I'm meeting them."

* * *

Oliver was pacing the antechamber as he waited to be called for the press conference, mentally rehearsing the speech Cat had written for him as he strode from one end of the room to the other. He'd spoken with Felicity on the phone earlier, so he was unsurprised when she joined him.

She looked tired. Up close, he could see the shadows underneath her eyes that she had covered with foundation. She wore a red sheath dress with what Thea would call a boat neckline and matching high heels. As always, she wore a coat of pink lipstick on her lips. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, as per usual.

She really was beautiful.

"Hey," she greeted him quietly with a gentle, tired smile. "How are you?"

"Alright," he grimaced. "This is a typical thing for me. Are you okay? This isn't something you're used to dealing with."

"They hardly mentioned me," she pointed out. "By the way, Oliver, I need to mention: The Claytons came to see me earlier."

He stiffened. "What did they say?" He asked uneasily.

He and Samantha's parents didn't have a great relationship, though they tried to maintain a level of civility for the little boy they all loved. The couple hated that he hadn't married Samantha to 'protect her honour' (never mind that Samantha had been the one to say she didn't want to marry him and preferred they stay friends for Will's sake rather than risk hating each other and it affecting their son) and were convinced that he was still an irresponsible playboy. They'd wanted William to live with them after Samantha's death, but her will gave custody to Oliver and they'd had no grounds for contesting his assumption of guardianship. But ever since this whole thing had begun, Oliver had been brooding, wondering if they would be able to take William away from him.

Felicity patted his arm reassuringly. "Don't worry," she murmured gently, expression soft. It seemed like she had read his mind somehow. "You have no reason to worry. I see what a loving dad you are. William is lucky to have you. I don't have any reason to take him away."

Oliver hesitated, then mentioned hesitantly. "Will said you told him that-"

"I was a foster child, yes," she confirmed, voice turning crisp and shoulders tensing. She looked away, and Oliver regretted bringing up what was clearly a painful memory for her. "It's why I became a social worker."

"Well, you're obviously great at your job," Oliver offered lamely, hoping to make up for his tactlessness. "Will adores you."

Her face softened. "I love those kids," she stated. "They're my first priority, always will be."

"That's amazing," Oliver told her sincerely. "How much you care for them."

"Kids in the foster system don't have a lot of people who really care about them, who'll fight for them," Felicity remarked sadly. "So if nobody else will fight for those kids to be happy and excel in life, then I'll do it for them."

Oliver was about to reply when one of Cat's assistants came hurrying up to them. "Apologies, Mr Queen, Ms Smoak," she said in a flustered voice. "But it's time."

"Right," Oliver nodded and thanked the young intern, straightening his jacket and pulling on his public persona. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he saw Felicity taking her hair out of the ponytail and anxiously patting it down, looking nervous. "Don't be nervous, it'll all be fine," he whispered to the woman who was fast becoming a friend. She smiled softly back at him, eyes still nervous, and they strode out the door.


	9. Felicity's Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thea watches Oliver's press conference

**Disclaimer: I don't Arrow. Thanks to everyone enjoying this. Please note that updates may come slower now, as I'm about to start college and will need to spend more time on that then on creative writing. Also, I know nothing about press conferences or PR, but I did my best when writing it, so hopefully it works.**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Nine**

**Thea's Choice**

Thea Queen was slung over her bed, staring vacantly up at the ceiling. She was just after coming down from a drug-induced high, and was now trying to summon the energy to hunt down some more drugs, cocaine, heroine, weed, she didn't care so long as the pain she was feeling in her heart was numbed.

Ollie had rejected her. Thea was used to being pampered and doted on by everyone around her. Her older brother in particular had always indulged her every wish. He had never gotten angry with her before. Not really angry. Certainly not so furious he would cut off contact with her, and ban her from contacting her nephew too.

At first when he'd told her what had happened, after the shock of hearing him yell at her and their mother had eased, she'd been upset and angry, feeling as if he was overreacting, especially given that Laurel was the main reason Will had been taken by CPS. Thea had expected that Oliver would cool down quickly and feel bad about upsetting her. She'd decided to hold out on forgiving him until he'd bought her a gift or something, as punishment for getting so worked up at her.

But he hadn't. Over a week had gone by, and he had yet to reach out to her. After four days had past, it had finally sunk into Thea that she had messed up badly, and Oliver meant his ultimatum. She had reacted by seeking comfort in the familiar: sex, drugs and alcohol.

The good thing about drugs was the way they made her feel. The bad thing was that they didn't last long enough for her taste, and she always felt miserable coming down from a high. She knew she had something in her vanity drawer, but she had yet to find the energy to drag herself off her bed and go across the room to find it.

The TV was playing in the background, and the words "Oliver Queen" and "press conference" caught Thea's attention. She twisted her neck to squint at the screen, seeing Oliver stepping up onto a podium set up outside of the Queen Consolidated building, accompanied by a pretty young blonde woman.

Thea sat up, turning around to see the TV properly as she grabbed the remote off her nightstand and turned up the volume so she could hear better.

_"Welcome everyone, and thank you all for coming on such short notice," Oliver said, smiling his 'Press Smile' at the reporters. "Please hold your questions until the end. As you all know, I'm Oliver Queen, CEO of Queen Consolidated, and this is Felicity Smoak, a social worker for the Starling division of Child Protective Services._

_I'm sure everybody has heard about the article written by Ms. Williams for the Star that was released this morning. It was true, but it was also missing some crucial facts. Ms. Smoak and I are here now to fill in those gaps and explain the whole story._

_I had been in a relationship with my high school sweetheart, Assistant District Attorney Laurel Lance (who is currently on probation) for the past year. Two Saturdays ago, I introduced her to my son, William. I intended for the three of us to spend the day together, but I was called into work for an emergency in R &D. I asked Laurel to watch Will until I got home, and she agreed. _

_What I didn't know was that Laurel has become an alcoholic. She got drunk after I left, and ended up driving William to the park and leaving him there. When I confronted her later, she had fallen asleep on the sofa and didn't remember her actions. My attorneys are currently filing a restraining order against her on behalf of my family."_

_The blonde social worker seamlessly picked up the rod of conversation. "I'm Felicity Smoak, as Mr. Queen has already said," she reintroduced herself. "Spelled S-M-O-_ _**A** _ _-_ _**K,** _ _not S-M-O-_ _**K-E** _ _as Ms. Williams wrote. Please fact and spellcheck, I find it incredibly irritating when I see stuff like that._

_Now anyway, regarding William. I was at the park with another of my other charges, and we found him wandering the park alone and without a coat. I introduced myself and took him to my car to let him get warmed up. I got his father, grandmother and aunt's numbers from him, but none answered. Due to that, as well as some comments he made during my preliminary interview with him, I took him into emergency care._

_I want to clarify firmly that the Department of Child Protective Services has no qualms about Mr. Queen's capabilities as a father. This decision was taken due to the actions of outsiders around the two, not due to his own. It took several days to return custody to Mr. Queen for the simple fact that it was the weekend and the courts were closed._

_It is true that Moira Queen attempted to bribe and coerce me into dropping and covering up the entire thing, which I refused to do. I recorded our conversation on my phone and played it in court. But it was also clear from his reaction to the recording that Mr. Queen was unaware until then of his mother's actions._

_We did not simply drop the whole suit and abandon a child to an unsafe environment. Mr. Queen was advised of several conditions he had to fulfil before the DCPS would allow him to regain custody of his son. Those conditions are being fulfilled, in fact he had already made changes prior to the hearing, and we are currently conducting random home inspections without warning to make sure of William's safety. The safety of the child is always, always the priority of the department. I would not have recommended Will return to his father's home if I wasn't convinced that the two of them love each dearly, and that this whole thing would never have happened if not for outside interference."_

_Her voice was stern and unyielding. You couldn't help but believe her, and her conviction._

_"The floor is now open to questions," Oliver added. "You." He pointed at one of the more reputable journalists in the crowd._

_"Mr. Queen, is it true that part of the reason you lost custody was due to the DCPS learning your sister has been taking drugs, drinking alcohol and having sex while babysitting your son?" The woman asked._

_Oliver's expression became pinched, but he gave a sharp nod. "I'm sorry to say it's true," he admitted. "I suspected Thea was gaining a problem with substance abuse, but I refused to confirm it for my own selfish desire not to believe my sister would do something like that. But I never would have thought she would risk my son like that. I have since informed her that, until she has gotten clean, I will not be allowing her to see or speak to Will, and I'm not currently planning on speaking to her either. I have also cut off contact with my mother._

_Next question please."_

///\\\\\

Thea switched off the TV as Oliver answered the second question, this time something to do with the situation's effect on QC's stocks.

Then she sat motionlessly on the bed for a while, before grabbing her phone and starting to go through her contacts. First, she sent a text to Shane telling him they were through and she didn't want him to call her again. Then she blocked him, and everyone who'd ever suggested she try this drink, or smoke that drug. Then she pulled out her laptop and looked up discreet, good-quality rehab centres.

The last thing she did was text Oliver.

_**TQ: ollie, I saw your pc earlier. Im sorry I screwed up. Im booking into a rehab c. please dont h8 me. All my luv to u & Will.** _

His reply came twenty minutes later, when she was just finished speaking to the receptionist of the centre she had picked. It was highly discreet, catering to the elite, had excellent recommendations and was as much a holiday resort as it was a place to get clean. It was also the same place Oliver had gone to get clean after the crash, so she knew already that it lived up to expectations.

_**OQ: speedy, nothing u do would evr make me h8 u. im so proud of u. ill call soon. All our luv. Will and I miss u.** _

Thea sniffled and wiped her eyes, her resolve hardening. She could do this. She _would_ do this. She would get clean, put an end to 'Thea the Party Queen', and become a sister and aunt to be proud of, not one to be shunned for her nephew's safety.

She would make up for this.

Everyone had a crucible, a time in life where they chose whether they would fight or break, and this was Thea's.

She chose to fight.

* * *

"Ms. Smoak, can I speak to you for a moment?" Felicity had been fidgeting with her phone, sending replies to her curious charges who had seen her on TV and wanted to know what was going on, when Mr. Diggle, Oliver's Head of Security, came up to her.

"Sure, of course," Felicity smiled warmly and reached out to shake his hand. "What can I do for you, Mr. Diggle?"

"Could we do this in private?" He requested, jerking his head towards the door to a conference room. "It's nothing to do with Oliver and William," he added. "It's a personal thing I believe you could give my wife and I some advice on."

Curious, but good at taking people's measure and having already decided that she liked and trusted John Diggle, Felicity nodded and followed him into the room. She was surprised to see a woman there. After a second of head-wracking, Felicity recognized her from the Queen custody hearing as Lyla Diggle née Michaels, John's wife. The woman Will called 'Aunt Lyla'.

"What's this about?" Felicity inquired as she took a seat across from the couple.

"It's about a friend of mine, Sandra Hawke," Lyla began. Felicity blinked in surprise. Small world. Sandra Hawke was the now-deceased mother of her newest charge, Connor. "She is, or rather, she was, my secretary at the FBI. I'm the district's Executive Director," she added in explanation. Felicity nodded, remembering Sandra's job from the file.

"I just learned that she died in car wreck last night," Lyla went on. "And that her son, Connor, survived. I know from Sandra that she has no family who could take Connor in, and that his father is in prison, and there's no family from that side either. Johnny and I had been talking about expanding our family for a while now, and we've discussed it and decided that we'd like to adopt Connor. We hoped you could tell us how to set things in motion."

Felicity nodded again, reaching into her bag to pull out a notepad and pen as she started to speak. "So, as it turns out, I've actually been assigned as Connor's case worker," she announced with a smile. "And I'm delighted to hear that you want to adopt him. He's young enough that he still had a shot, but he's nudging the age that it starts becoming less likely. And I always like it when kids can be placed with people who knew their birth family and can give them a connection to it. There's no way for them not to wonder, so it can help.

Anyway, I have to warn you, adoption is a very long process. It's a rollercoaster of emotions and paperwork. It can be very overwhelming, but the process is convoluted to try and weed out those who aren't really willing to sacrifice and put the effort into raising the child. Understand?"

"Yes, we get it," Diggle nodded firmly, taking Lyla's hand. "We're willing to do whatever it takes. We've met Connor before, he's played with our twins and Sandra was a good friend. We already care deeply about him, we want to make him a part of our family, to raise him with love, the way she would have wanted her boy to be raised."

Lyla nodded in agreement while Felicity smiled wider.

"I am really pleased to hear that," she repeated her earlier sentiment. "I'll just give you an overview of what has to be done first, alright? Then we'll schedule a meeting to go more in depth and that you can bring some documents we'll need to."

"Okay," Lyla agreed.

"Every adoption is unique," Felicity explained. "But there are nine basic, key steps. Firstly, of course, you must decide if adoption is the right thing for you and your family. I know you said that you've been discussing another child, but are you sure you want to adopt instead of having another biological child? After all, Sandra only died last night, so this was a quick decision to make, especially when it's such a big one."

Several times, she'd start guiding a couple through adoption, only for them to pull out at various stages. It was always a disappointment. Better for it to happen sooner than later.

"We are," Lyla confirmed. "We'd actually been considering it for awhile now."

"Don't get us wrong, we love Sarah and JJ," John added hastily. "But we know there are kids out there without families to love them. We want to give them that."

"I was adopted myself," Lyla explained. "My birth parents died in a bank robbery when I was two, and I was fortunate enough to be adopted by the Michaels, who were our neighbours. I always figured that I would like to adopt at least one child at some point. We just wanted our financials and stuff to be firmer before starting the process, you know? And then I received my promotion to a desk job about seven months ago, which was when we decided to start thinking about how and when we would go about doing this."

"We've done some research, spoken to the twins about them getting a sibling, we have a spare room that we plan to convert to a room for Connor," John added. "The decision for Connor to be the child we adopt is one we made today, but adoption itself has been a long time coming. We had mentioned it even before getting engaged."

"I get it," Felicity agreed. She too often thought that, when she was ready to be a mother, she'd like to adopt a child. Not one of her own charges, that wouldn't be fair to the others, but a child who needed a home, who was too old to be likely to be adopted. The same thing that the Wests had done for her. "Well, I'm glad to hear that you haven't made this decision lightly. The second thing you need to do when adopting is choose what sort of adoption you're going with. In this case, you've decided on a domestic adoption of a toddler.

I have some brochures about this type of adoption, and adoption of a child of toddler age, who is old enough to be walking, talking and have memories of and an attachment to his birth mother already, in my car. I'll give them to you after this. The older a child is, and the longer they spent with their biological family, the harder it usually is for them to adjust. Connor is still young, but at three he's old enough to know who his mother is, and to notice her absence and the change in his life. We won't be able to give you custody for a few months at minimum while the paperwork is going through, so he'll inevitably be moved at least once or twice in that time, which will be confusing for him. However, you say that you know him already, so that'll help him adjust a bit better. We'll set up meetings for you to visit him during the adoption, to help you bond better with him and keep you alive in his memory so he doesn't consider you strangers. Bringing your children with you and explaining they're his brother and sister once the paperwork is started and such is something we recommend as well, to help all of them adjust."

Felicity had been writing her words down to give them as she spoke, but she noticed that Lyla had also taken out a page and was scribbling everything she said down too, while John listened with an intent look on his face.

"Okay, we can definitely do that," John nodded. "Do you think he'll need a child psychologist like William does after the adoption?"

Felicity shrugged. "At this point, it's too early to say," she replied. "We'll see after his adoption how things go. He's still quite young and you're familiar, so he should adjust a bit easier."

"What else?" Lyla asked.

"The next basic stage is getting professional help on adoption," Felicity explained. "So, for example there's myself as Connor's social worker, and you'll need to get in touch with an adoption lawyer to help you with the legal stuff. I have a list of lawyers linked with my department, and I'll give you them. Personally, I recommend Shado Gulong. She works with us a lot, she was actually the one representing us at the hearing last week. She's superb, I always recommend her first. But I'll give you a selection, you can look into them and decide who to go with, or find someone yourself it you prefer." As she spoke, she tore out a page and scribbled down the names and numbers of six adoption attorneys, handing it over to John who tucked it into his wallet carefully.

"Thank you," John stated.

"Step four is reviewing your financial options," she continued, waving off his thanks. "As Connor is now in the system, you'll be adopting him through that, so it's cheaper than an international adoption or adoption through an agency would be. Then we'll need to do a home study. This is a thorough investigation of your home, family, relationships and so on. You'll need birth certificates, marriage licenses, tax returns, and financial statements. Make appointments for physicals, as you'll need a valid TB test and proof that you are in reasonably good health. You'll also need to be fingerprinted for a criminal history background check. I'm sure that won't be a problem given Director Diggle's job, but it's protocol."

"Of course, we can have copies of those all made up within the fortnight at most," Lyla assured her.

"Great," Felicity answered brightly. "The sooner the better, but again it will take a few months to interview your family and friends and such. We'll need letters of recommendation from some people, family, friends, employers, co-workers, to assure us of your characters. The more the better. Again, I have brochures about the process in my car that I can give you."

"We'll take them all," John said lightly. "The more information we have the better."

Felicity smiled, pleased at the obvious determination the couple had. It boded well. "The next basic steps are linked to choosing your child, meeting birth parents wanting to put their child up for adoption and so on," she went on. "And of course that's irrelevant in this case. So then, once the home study is done, you need to start prepping for Connor to move in. I recommend you join a support group for adoptive parents, to help you cope with the stress and connect with people who understand what you're going through in a way parents who haven't adopted won't be able to.

It's good for yourselves of course, but in the long run it could also help Connor connect with other adoptive children, which would help him. It's very rare an adopted child doesn't feel like an outsider at one point or another during their childhood or adolescence, particularly if their parents have biological children as well, so having adopted friends who understand the feelings he has can help him lessen those stresses."

"And you know the names of some of those groups I assume?" Lyla checked. Felicity smirked and nodded, tearing out another page and passing it to John.

"There's a few there, and if you look it up online you'll find some easily as well," she explained. "But those are Starling based, as well as two Internet-based ones. The third one is specifically for parents who are adopting the child of deceased friends or family. It's a good place to talk, as merging blood and adoptive families can be very stressful, while often people feel guilt over 'stealing'," she used air quotes for the word. "Their friend or family's child. And the fourth is mainly for connecting adopted children, and for helping them adjust to their lives, feelings of jealousy towards blood siblings, feelings of being an outsider or guilt over considering someone other than their birth parents as their parents. Many families I've spoken to really like them, and studies show that connecting with people in similar situations are good for easing the stress."

"Great, we'll look into them," John said, glancing over the list. "Especially those two you mentioned."

"Good," Felicity stated. "Step eight is the hardest step. Waiting for approval and to bring your son home. Now, this is the part where I'd recommend you start bringing Sarah and JJ you called them? With you to see Connor on your visits. I'll also allow him to be brought to your house, to start familiarizing himself with it and with you two being his caretakers." It wasn't strictly protocol, but Felicity always did her best to arrange it, so that the kids could start bonding with their new families as soon as possible, and to ease the transition.

"How long will that take, do you think?" Lyla inquired. Felicity shrugged helplessly.

"It really depends," she answered apologetically. "Sometimes it can take months, sometimes less. I'll have a better idea closer to the time, and again, there are recommendations of what you can do while you wait to distract yourself from going mad."

The pair looked disappointed, but rallied and nodded determinedly.

"And step nine?" John asked.

Felicity grinned. "Step nine, you bring your son home," she informed them happily.

"Wonderful," Lyla breathed. Her eyes shimmered, and Felicity felt her heart warm. It was clear that this couple were already halfway to being in love with the boy they'd chosen to take in, and she resolved to push through the adoption as soon as she could, to get Connor into the loving arms of his future family as quick as she could.

She reached across the table and squeezed Lyla's hand. "I'll be taking Connor to Sandra's funeral once it's been arranged," she told her. "Would you like to look after him during it?" So long as she was in the same area, it would be fine, and the sooner Connor started thinking of the couple as his main caregivers the better.

"Definitely," they chorused without hesitation, flashing quick smiles at one another before looking back at her.

"We'll get a start on those documents for you ASAP," John told her. "The sooner we have them, the sooner we bring our boy home to us where he belongs."

Moments like these, seeing a couple so eager and willing to open their hearts and homes to a child who'd lost everything, made all the stress and sorrow Felicity had to deal with as a social worker worth it a hundred times over.


	10. The Doctor and the Psychologist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We catch a glimpse of the Lance sisters and a sneak peek into Will's mind

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Thanks to everyone reading and enjoying this, as usual. College kicked off today, so, as I mentioned in the last update, it will probably take me longer to update from now on (I will try to get chapters up ASAP, I swear!).**

**Lots of love to all of you wonderful Olicity readers, remember to social distance/wear face coverings to stay safe.**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Ten**

**The Detective and the Psychologist**

Detective Sara Lance of the Starling City Police Department was exhausted and frustrated as she pulled into the parking spot just outside of 'Poison'. She'd only just gotten home from a long shift and was looking forward to a relaxing evening eating dinner and watching Netflix with her wife, Nyssa, when she'd received a phone call from the bartender at the club, requesting she come and collect her sister. It was the fourth time in less than three weeks that Sara was having to do this.

She left the car and trudged into the bar, looking around until she spotted her sister, pressing close to a guy on the dancefloor and clearly drunk.

Sara blamed herself for things getting so bad. She should have noticed the signs of Laurel's addiction. After all, she'd gone through it before with their dad after the Dollmaker case that came right on the heels of their parents' divorce. Quentin had spiralled downward with frightening speed, and it had taken the best part of two years for him to finally give in and accept that he needed help, even longer for him to overcome the alcoholism. He still didn't dare to touch alcohol, even four years after his first AA meeting.

Sara, as a detective with experience of a family member suffering from alcoholism, should have picked up on Laurel's drinking earlier, before it was shoved in her face. Maybe if she had, Laurel's life wouldn't be falling apart right now. She had done a good job of hiding her escalating drinking, no one could deny that. Nobody had even suspected she was developing an alcohol addiction. But with the whole 'abandoning a child in a park' thing, everything had come undone. Laurel had been suspended from her job, was under investigation by the DA office to see if she had damaged any of her cases (a dozen appeals of cases she had successfully prosecuted had come streaming in) and she was being sued by the Queens for child endangerment. Joanna had warned they had a good case, and even better lawyers. To top it all off, Quentin was being side eyed by IA for covering up her DUI earlier that year.

Sara was loyal to her sister, but she wasn't happy about her actions. Couldn't support it in good conscious. And she and Nyssa were in the middle of adopting a child. They hadn't met the little girl in person yet, but they had been shown photos of their daughter-to-be and spoken with her grandfather and aunt, Yao Fei Gulong and Shado Wilson née Gulong.

The family had explained that they had seriously discussed what course they would take with regards to Cynthia's upbringing after her parents' deaths. But Yao Fei had terminal liver cancer and Shado was married with two stepsons, a daughter and a husband who suffered from a brain injury that occurred when he was serving with the ASIS. She simply couldn't manage caring for a toddler too. As such, the Gulongs had decided to go through with an open adoption, the paperwork ensuring that they would be able to keep in touch with their granddaughter/niece while allowing her to grow up with parents.

It hadn't bothered Sara, letting her daughter maintain a link with her biological relatives. But now the whole thing with Laurel made her fear that the Gulongs would change their minds and decide against letting her and Nyssa adopt Cynthia. Or maybe the adoption agency would fail to approve them based on the history of alcoholism in her family or the current turmoil that had been kicked off due to her sister's actions. She hadn't heard anything from them about it, but the fear wouldn't leave her mind, hovering in the back of her mind and sneaking out whenever she got distracted.

And then there was Oliver. He had been a good friend of Sara's for years. They'd slept together in college, when she was still struggling to figure out her sexuality, and maintained their friendship through the next decade, despite her going off on to join the Peace Corps for four years (where she met Nyssa), and Oliver doing a complete turn-about and leaving "Ollie" Queen far behind him to be replaced with a serious businessman and loving father. He had stood up with her at her wedding, and had re-connected with Laurel because of her. She feared this would break that solid friendship that was such a key part of her life.

She sighed and pushed away those worries. She would brood over them later, when she had Laurel tucked away safely at their dad's place (where she was living now that her landlord had kicked her out. She hadn't run out of rent yet when he did so, so Sara suspected that the guy had done so to avoid trouble with the vengeful Queens. She didn't get how it was legal, but there was some clause in Laurel's contract that had allowed it. Asshole.) and had returned home to curl up in bed beside Nyssa. Nyssa would be able to soothe her fears, and perhaps three weeks was long enough that she could try and tentatively reach out to Oliver, see if he would agree to speak with her.

She made her way over to Laurel, shoving a hand between her inebriated sister and the guy she was attached to by the lips, pushing the pair apart.

"Hey!" Laurel objected. Even if her staggering gait didn't give it away, the slur in her voice made it clear that she was absolutely shitfaced. "Sara? Whad're you doin' 'ere?"

"What's the big idea?" The guy added belligerently. "We were just having some fun. Of course, you're welcome to join in if ya want." He ran his eyes over her with a lustful look.

Sara pursed her lips and flashed her badge, making him pale and stiffen.

"Hey, now, I don' want any trouble!" He insisted, raising his hands in a motion of surrender. "We were jus' dancin', that's all. I don' want any trouble."

"I'm taking my sister home," she announced, the guy nodding quickly, clearly eager to escape her sight. It made her suspicious, but she decided to let it go. He couldn't be a hardened or experienced criminal, at any rate, with such obvious unease at the sight of her. "Come on Laurel," she demanded, turning to the older woman, who was scowling at her.

"No!" She snapped back petulantly, stamping her foot like a young child. "I'm stayin' 'ere an' 'avin' fun! You're jus', jus'...you're boring! You want me to be miserable!"

Sara gritted her teeth and wrapped a hand tightly around Laurel's upper arm and started dragging her out of the club. Her plastered sister protested and struggled all the way, but her feeble attempts at getting away were futile when used against a black-belted karate expert and police detective whose idea of a date with her wife was the two of them getting Chinese takeout from the Jade Dragon and eating it before they sparred in one of the rooms for the next few hours until they changed to another type of 'exercise'.

She waved at the bartender, Jay Garrick, who had called her, and he nodded in return, giving her a commiserating look. She had become friendly with him when their dad went through his own addiction, and he was helping her with Laurel now too. He was a good man, and his own parents had both been alcoholics as well, so he understood the stress she was under, trying to keep her dad from spiralling again and trying to coax Laurel into acknowledging she was an alcoholic, all the while ignoring Laurel's cruel words. Her sister was _not_ a happy drunk.

She forced Laurel into the passenger seat and buckled her in, locked the door to keep her jumping out as she had tried earlier in the month, then went around to the driver's seat, sighing tiredly as she put the car into gear.

"It's not fair," Laurel announced suddenly as they pulled out of the carpark.

"What isn't?" Sara asked warily. She braced herself to deal with another tirade about how everyone in the world was against Laurel. Laurel, much as Sara loved her sister, was one of those people who preferred to blame any and everyone else for her troubles, rarely accepting her own fault in things. It was not a trait of hers that Sara liked.

"That woman is the reason for all of this," Laurel insisted. Sara frowned in confusion. What woman?

"She turned Ollie against me, she ruined everything," Laurel rambled drunkenly. "Did you see the way they were acting on the TV? That _slut_ seduced him and convinced him to break up with me. What a gold-digging whore. She orchestrated this whole thing to get her greedy fingers on him. She doesn't love Ollie, she just loves his money."

_'Unlike you'_ Sara thought wryly. She knew perfectly well, even before Laurel's many drunken rants had revealed an ugly, vindictive side to the woman so many had considered to be near-saintlike, that Laurel's attraction to Oliver Queen had a lot more to deal with his place as eldest male of the Queens, the closest thing their city had to royalty, then anything to do with Oliver himself. Her father, on the other hand, had been taken completely by surprise by the cruel and grasping side of his daughter, and he was devastated to learn of its existence. Sara was really worried this would send him back over the edge.

"I'll make her pay for it," Laurel promised drunkenly. Sara, too distracted avoiding hitting some idiot who decided it was a good idea to jaywalk while wearing dark clothes in the middle of the night, simply made a noise of acknowledgement, taking no notice of her sister's words. She had learned it was best to tune out Laurel's drunken rants as much as she could. Otherwise she would end up devastated at best. "I'll make her and that brat pay for stealing Ollie from me."

It wasn't as if Laurel meant anything she said when she was drunk, anyway. Sara truly believed that. She was all bark and no bite. She was angry and hurting, and the alcohol made her spew venom against those around her and who had hurt her, but she was a good person at heart.

She wouldn't hurt a fly.

* * *

"So, Will, what would you like to do today?" Dr Lily Stein, daughter of the famous scientist Martin Stein, child psychologist and (most importantly in her own opinion,) mother of Ronald "Ronnie" Stein, asked her newest patient brightly. Lily used a broad range of techniques to help her patients. Children often had difficulty understanding and identifying their emotions, let alone putting them into words, so Lily needed to figure out ways to help them express themselves in a manner she could understand and help them with. She used a lot of play, art and music therapy to help draw them out, distracting them while she probed at their feelings, engaging the right side logical part of the brain to let her access the left side emotional part.

"Would you prefer to colour, to play, to listen to music? Your choice."

"I wanna colour please, Dr Lily," William replied politely.

"Sounds like a great idea," she said approvingly with a smile for the young boy, grabbing her two 'boys' colouring books and showing them to him. "Which would you prefer, space or superheroes?"

"Uumm, space," Will decided after a moment's contemplation, choosing a picture of a planet with rings around it to colour in. Lily nodded and swiftly photocopied the page for him while Will grabbed the colours. Lily grabbed her own page to colour in and settled in beside her young charge as he dove into his colouring, tongue sticking slightly out of the corner of his mouth.

"So, Will," Lily began in a casual tone after a few moments of letting him get settled into his colouring. "How've you been this week?" For the moment, she was meeting with him every Friday afternoon for a forty-five-minute session. This was their third, discounting the meeting where they had met to see if she would be a good fit as his psychologist. "Are you looking forward to Christmas?"

William frowned, an unusual reaction to a child speaking about Christmas. "No," he shook his head. Lily noted that his grip on his red crayon had tightened.

"Why not?" She asked gently. "Aren't you excited for Santa to come and give you presents?"

"It's not a real Christmas," Will complained.

"Why do you say that?" She pressed, putting down the yellow crayon she had been using and replacing it with a red one.

"It wasn't Christmas last year, either," Will added, not responding to her question. Lily dwelled on his answer for a moment before comprehension dawned.

Samantha Clayton had died in October of last year, and it was only mid-December by the time that the Claytons and Queens had come to an arrangement regarding William's living situation. There shouldn't have been so much fuss about custody, given that Oliver was his father, but the Claytons, while based in Central City and not as rich as the Queens, were heavily involved in politics (Frank Clayton was an ex-Senator or something) and had many connections they had used to try and gain custody of their grandson. Given the turmoil and grief the family had still been going through at the time, they probably hadn't put much, if any, effort into Christmas.

"Is it because of your Mommy?" She confirmed softly.

He sniffed and nodded. She could see he was keeping his eyes wide open, trying to stop any tears getting out.

"You must miss her loads," Lily murmured sympathetically. They had only briefly mentioned Samantha once or twice in the other sessions. It was clearly a sore topic.

"Yeah," William mumbled.

"You know that it's okay to cry over missing her, don't you William?" Lily inquired.

He shook his head, sniffing. "No," he argued. "I'm a big boy, and big boys don't cry. Grandmama says so."

Lily frowned slightly before swiftly wiping away the expression to avoid upsetting him. "My daddy's a big boy, but he still cries sometimes," she told him. His head snapped up so he could look at her with wide eyes, clearly stunned. He glanced at the family photo on the wall showing her parents, herself and Ronnie, taken just six months ago.

"He does?" Will asked in a whisper, as if it was a secret.

Lily nodded. "He does," she promised. "You see my son, Ronnie? He's named after Ronnie Raymond, who was a very close friend of my dad. He died, like your mommy did, and my daddy cried when he found out and at the funeral."

That was an understatement. Ronnie was her father's godson, and Martin had been as devastated as Eddie, Ronnie's dad, when news had come of Ronnie's death in a fire. There had been a gas leak in the building where he was working. Ronnie had helped an undergrad escape through the window, only for he himself to be crushed beneath some falling debris before he too could escape. Lily had felt as if she had lost a brother of blood, not just heart, and hadn't even considered naming her son, born three months later, anything except Ronnie.

"Oh," Will said softly, biting his lower lip. "Daddy says that Grandmama and Auntie Thea aren't spending Christmas with us this year," he revealed, expression troubled. "And we're not having our Christmas party either."

"So, just you and Daddy at home then, is it?" Lily confirmed. He nodded in affirmation. "So, no Mommy, no Aunt Thea, no grandparents and no party," she mused. "A quiet Christmas." Better to say 'quiet' than 'lonely', which was what he was probably feeling. "But you love your daddy, don't you William?"

"More than anybody else in the world," Will assured her hastily, leaving no room for doubt.

"So won't it be nice to spend Christmas just the two of you?" Lily pointed out reasonably.

"I guess," Will agreed reluctantly.

"And Santa Claus'll come to visit," she added with a smile. "Won't that be nice?"

"Santa's not real," he scowled.

"Why do you say that?" Lily prodded gently. He was still young that he shouldn't have gained any doubts about the reality of Santa Claus and magic yet.

His face crumpled and tears started streaming, the little boy no longer able to hold them at bay.

"Last year, I asked Santa to bring Mommy back," he whimpered, breaking her heart a bit. "And I said that was all I wanted, I'd be really, really good forever and ever if he brought her back. But he _didn't_! Santa's a _lie_! He'd've brought her back if he was real! I want Mommy back!"

He started sobbing and Lily pulled him into her arms, rubbing his back softly and whispering soothingly to him.

"I'm sorry William, but it just doesn't work like that," she told him as gently as she could. "Once someone is gone, they're gone forever I'm afraid. But you are still _so_ loved, honey, I _promise_. You have so many people who would do whatever they had to, to protect and care for you. You have the rest of your family, you have me, your new nanny Jesse-"

"And 'Licity," Will added with a sniffle. "She gives hugs like Mommy did."

In the back of her mind, the rest of her thoughts occupied with soothing the upset boy, she took note of that. Will had mentioned his social worker in each of their sessions, and he was clearly greatly attached to her. Now he was making comparisons between Felicity and his late mother. Clearly, she needed to keep an eye on the relationship between the pair.


	11. Shopping Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity goes present shopping and unexpectedly bumps into Oliver

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. As usual, my thanks to everyone whose enjoying this story, and a special thanks to those who wished me good luck in college.**

**This chapter is probably not my best. My brain is half-fried at the moment, but I gave it my best shot. Hopefully once I've adjusted to schoolwork again my writing will improve.**

**Lots of love to you all! Stay safe and remember to wear masks/social distance!**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Eleven**

**Unexpected Shopping Encounters**

The holidays were a hard time for Felicity's bank account. Since she was Jewish and the West(Allen)s were all Christians, though not particularly devout, her family had celebrated "Christmasukkah" since she joined them, where they merged the key traditions of both holidays and traded presents on December 20th, about mid-way between the end of Hanukkah and Christmas Eve (though the kids, as per usual, got their Santa presents on Christmas Day). Her family tended to give her eight small presents, with her receiving them on each day of Hanukkah and waiting until the 20th to open them, so she did a similar action, buying eight little gifts and giving them all at once. Even though she was as frugal as she could be throughout the year, careful to save her salary (being a social worker did not a billionaire make), it put a heavy strain on her wallet, especially as she gave gifts to all of her kids.

She just couldn't _not_ give them all something. They all saw the celebrations, heard their peers excitedly chatting about the presents they would receive, or saying what they'd ask for when they went to visit Santa. She knew from personal experience how left a foster kid felt in that scenario.

During most of her childhood, she hadn't gotten much presents, or any at all. Her bubbe had tried her best, but usually due to their limited budget (all of their money came from Bubbe's work as a shop manager, and a significant amount went towards Donna's alcohol and drugs, despite Bubbe's best efforts to safeguard their funds) she would get her a new cardie, or shoes for the last day of Hanukkah. Something practical. Then after Bubbe's death and going into the system, she had gone without any gifts up until the Wests had taken her in, and it had always made her feel hurt and lonely. Unwanted.

She refused to let her children feel that way, and even when she was sure they'd get something from their families, she couldn't in good conscious not give something to them all. That being said, she currently had seventeen kids in her charge, so one small thing for each of them was all she could afford.

They all deserved to have a gift, and while she knew that the families they were with would give them something (she always made sure to pointedly ask foster parents on the visit at the start of December what they planned on giving the child so they couldn't not do so in the event that she had misjudged them and they weren't planning on doing so), she wanted to ensure they knew she was thinking of them. And she refused to just buy a bunch of the same things for the boys and do the same for the girls. All the gifts she gave were personal ones, something suited to their personalities and likes.

That, of course, meant that a visit to Toys'R'Us was top of her agenda at the start of December. Unfortunately, she'd been so busy in the past few weeks, especially after one of her colleagues went on maternity leave, that she only managed to go present shopping on December 13th, in the middle of Hanukkah and distressingly close to December 19th, when she made her rounds and handed out the gifts to her kids, allowing her to take the nineteenth off to spend time with her family.

She sighed and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, peering at the art supplies as she debated what to get Evie. The young teen had gotten into art on the recommendation of her therapist, as a way of working through her grief over the deaths of her parents in a housefire eighteen months ago. As time had past, it had become Evie's passion, and she had tentatively brought up the possibility of studying it at college the last time Felicity had visited, much to her pleasure. It was always good to hear one of her kids contemplating going to college and not simply resigning themselves to becoming failures, the way so many started to think after so long in the system.

Finally, Felicity selected a new art set, complete with paints, brushes, and some coloured pencils along with a pad to work on, and put it in her trolley alongside the other things she'd selected. She glanced at her list, seeing who was next. Zoe, Will, and her niece and nephew were all that she had left to get gifts for. Well, them and Iris and Caitlin, but she needed to go to the make-up store for them. She'd get each of them one of those little gift sets. Iris loved those, and Caitlin had commented that one of her favourite brands had several new ones available. Felicity was pretty sure it had been an unsubtle hint about what she'd like for her gift this year.

But her sister and best friend were later. Her kids were now.

For Zoe, some new hockey gear would be best. Her old stuff was getting worn out. For the twins, she would get a new stuffed toy for Dawn, preferably a Jellycat. They were more expensive, but the softest brand of stuffed toys that Felicity had ever touched. As for DJ, she would get a set of blocks, as Iris had told her his old set had needed to be thrown out when they ended up in the toilet ("the joys of having toddlers," her sister had said dryly, a fond smile on her lips despite that. "you get to call the plumber and ask him to remove your kid's blocks from the toilet drain."). (Felicity only got one gift each for her niece and nephew, given how young they were).

That left William. Felicity decided a STEM toy of some sort would be best. He was a clever kid, and on practically every visit he'd spoken excitedly to her about his latest science experiment. She wandered the large shop, trying to decide what to get the boy. It was hard though. The penthouse apartment where the Queen men lived was almost thrice the size of her own small apartment, and William's playroom was the size of her living room, and full of toys. From what she gathered, Oliver rarely denied his son a toy he wanted. That fact actually worried her a bit, and she had carefully brought up the topic with him when they'd had their third home visit. He'd sheepishly acknowledged that he tended to spoil his son a bit. Why shouldn't he give the boy whatever he wanted, when he had the resources for it? Samantha had apparently been the main disciplinarian of the two, and when he had gained full custody, Oliver had been reluctant to upset his grieving child by scolding or punishing him for anything. Felicity understood the sentiment, but that didn't mean she supported it. While William was still a good child, if Oliver continued with the route of spoiling him, there would be trouble ahead.

The main thing that had caused her to bring up the topic was when she had arrived to said visit to find William having an epic tantrum. Oliver had soothed him with promises of a new PlayStation instead of disciplining the boy. While Will was much sweeter than many kids Felicity had to deal with in her job, Thankfully Oliver, who was clearly eager to go through with any recommendation she gave least she decide he was an unfit father (that, unfortunately, was her biggest problem as a social worker. So many people assumed that she was out to take kids away from their families, perceiving her as an enemy and distrusting her), had agreed to be sterner, and he'd gone through with his promises.

Will had complained to her on her next visit that when he'd refused to eat the "gross green leaf stuff" a.k.a kale (in this case, Felicity didn't blame the child for not wanting to eat his veg. Kale of all things. The poor child.), his father had forced him to remain at the table until he'd finished his entire dinner, including the kale, and had refused to let him watch an episode of Star Wars: Rebels before bedtime as punishment for his tantrum.

The Queens were making excellent progress, and Felicity was delighted with how well it was all going, even as a part of her seemed to insist on waiting for the other shoe to drop. Surely nothing ever went so smoothly as this? In her experience it sure as hell didn't, at least.

But regardless of what might or might not happen in the future, her current problem remained the same: What did you get a child who could have pretty much anything he asked for?

"Felicity?" A surprised, familiar voice interrupted her internal debate as she peered at a coding game "Robot Repair" that apparently taught kids the principles of programming via a range of forty different puzzles of varying levels. According to the description on the back, in addition to allowing them to develop their coding skills, they also improved their critical, planning and reasoning skills while learning Boolean logic concepts. Although it was marketed as for 10+, William was intelligent enough for Felicity to think he would manage. It certainly seemed like a good bet-she and Will had talked about coding, a hobby of her hers since childhood and something that he was becoming increasingly fascinated by, so she knew that he would definitely enjoy it. In addition, it was on sale and only cost $15.99, which was all the better for her aching purse. She just couldn't recall if he had it already or not, and was straining her eidetic memory to go through the mountain of toys and games he'd shown to her, trying to remember.

She looked up automatically on hearing the sound of her name, eyes widening in surprise when she saw Oliver Queen himself, a hesitant smile on his lips as he looked at her. He had his own cart, again full of mostly STEM-related toys, but also with some baseball things and what seemed to be a drone.

Well, William certainly wouldn't be deprived of presents this year, though Felicity assumed that the Sylvanian toy house and set of a large rabbit family she could also see were for Sarah Diggle, or another child Oliver might know. Not that she judged of course. Let kids play with whatever they wanted. It just didn't seem like something Will would enjoy.

Felicity managed to shove away her musings and cleared her throat, smiling tentatively back at the charming (and unfairly handsome) CEO. "Oliver, what a surprise. Holiday shopping?"

"Yup," he nodded, gesturing at the trolley. "Honestly, I should've gotten it done ages ago, I just kept forgetting. Plus I was waiting for William's Christmas list, and he kind of dragged his feet on it this year. Jesse's taking him to a birthday party for another kid in his class. I take it you're gift shopping too?"

"Uh-huh," Felicity nodded in confirmation. "I get holiday presents for all my kids. I can only manage one thing each for them, but it guarantees that they all have something, you know? No kid should be left without a few presents to open during the holidays."

"Definitely not," Oliver agreed. "You always say "the holidays" instead of Christmas," he noted. "Are you not Christian or what?" Then he winced. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me."

"No, don't worry about it," Felicity waved him off. "As it so happens, I'm Jewish. And my kids are a mix of religions. I have one Hindu, four Jews, two Buddhists and one who decided last year that she's agnostic. The rest are all Christian. Still, it wouldn't be fair to leave anybody out."

"Of course not," Oliver murmured. "May I ask how many kids you look after?"

"My average caseload is about seventeen kids," Felicity answered honestly. "However, four of my kids are in various stages of being adopted, and once that's happened I'll only have contact with them personally if they and their families agree, and another is seventeen and on the verge of aging out. Once they're no longer members of the system, though, I usually keep in contact with them personally, even if it's just a small link."

She really hoped she would be able to keep contact with Axel. Much as she tried, she had been warned by her supervisors and even her father that she couldn't save everyone. Axel seemed like he was going to be one of those, but she had to try. Axel had been fifteen when she was given his case at the start of her career when his old social worker retired, angry and rebellious after his parents were both arrested and sentenced to multiple life sentences when he was ten, condemning him to the system. They'd been gangbangers and, from what Felicity knew of the pair, basically just some worthless bastards whose main source of income came from dealing drugs to kids as young as middle schoolers. They'd mainly targeted public schools outside of the Glades, seeing as Glades kids didn't have the money they wanted.

But the couple had still been loving parents in spite of their criminal lifestyle, and Axel had worshipped the ground his dad in particular had walked on. Despite Felicity's personal worries about it, worries that had been shared by his previous case worker, he'd been allowed to maintain contact by letters and have monthly visits with them as part of the plea deals they'd taken, and he had grown up an angry, resentful young man due to it all. She worried what he would get himself into, and could only hope to try and keep him on the straight and narrow. She knew that not all of her stories would be success ones, but she still had to try. He deserved it.

Oliver smiled softly at her. She thought it might have been admiration that shone in his eyes. Thankfully, her cheeks didn't heat up at his gaze. God damn her luck, forcing her to work with such an attractive and kind man. The kid he so obviously adored only heightened her attraction, but she refused to be so unprofessional.

"You really care about them," he commented.

She thought about how alone she had been in the system for years until she'd ended up at the West house, where they had put so much effort into getting past her walls, refusing to let her push them away the way she had tried so hard to do. Better to be the one to leave than be left, she had figured, based on her experience. Her own social worker had been kind, but overworked, and as Felicity hadn't been a troublemaker, even if she was sharp-tongued, she hadn't paid much attention to her. Felicity had been unwanted, and she'd known it. Only when Joe and Cecile took her in had she left that pain behind. She wanted more than anything to spare her kids from it.

"I do," she confirmed firmly. "Somebody has to. Someone has to fight for these kids, because they deserve it just as much as any other child."

Her passion came through in her tone and she unconsciously raised her chin in a defiant manner, knowing instinctively that her eyes were flashing with determination. Nobody had fought for her when she was in the system, and so many kids continued to go through hell in a system that should have protected them. Felicity would not let any of the children and teenagers she had influence over fall through the cracks like so many of their peers. Not while she had breath left in her body to prevent it.

Oliver blinked at her and inclined his head respectfully. She was grateful when he switched the topic. It hit just that bit too close to home. "Would you mind if we walked together for a bit?" He requested. "I have a few things that I wanted to speak with you about."

"Of course, but you gotta do me a favour first," Felicity assented.

"Go ahead," he agreed. She showed him the Robot Repair box.

"Does Will have this already? Hard to know what to get a kid whose playroom is the same size as my bedroom, and full of what seems like every toy on the market."

Oliver grinned, shaking his head. "No, not that I'm aware of," he told her. "You should be safe."

"Thank God," Felicity sighed, placing the box on top of her loaded trolley and tucking a gold curl behind her ear. "So, what was it you wanted to discuss with me? How's Will doing?"

He had seemed alright during her check in on Thursday, but worlds could change in an instant.

"He's," Oliver hesitated then restarted. "Do you think he's old enough to stop believing in Santa?"

Felicity raised her eyebrows, grimacing. "Tough question," she answered slowly. "Kids develop at their own pace. Usually it depends on home life and intelligence when they stop believing that magic is real. Why? What happened?"

"He wrote a list, but only yesterday after his psychologist got him to during their session," Oliver explained. "And she said that he told her that he doesn't believe in Santa anymore because of what happened last year."

Felicity was confused for a moment before comprehension dawned. "I guess that he wrote to Santa asking for his mother back, and when she didn't come back, he assumed that Santa wasn't real as a result?" She checked, unsurprised by her companion's nod. "Yeah, that tends to happen with young kids who lose a loved one or a pet. They turn to Santa or the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny or whatever to bring them back, and their faith takes a beating when it doesn't work."

"So, what do I do?" Oliver wondered, giving her a pleading look.

Felicity grimaced and shrugged. "Try and keep his belief in magic alive a little longer if you can," she advised. He was only seven after all. He deserved to hold onto that shred of innocence for a little bit longer. "Just explain that magic can only do so much. But when he's ready to stop believing, that's that."

"I don't want him to lose anymore of his innocence," Oliver told her lowly. She nodded in sympathy, daring to place a hand on his arm.

"I get it," she murmured. "But I'm afraid that's a part of life."

Oliver frowned and nodded reluctantly, letting out a tired sigh.

"Was there anything else?" Felicity asked, pulling away under the pretence of needing to keep control of her trolley to hide the warmth she felt when she touched him.

_Professional, Felicity,_ she reminded herself. _Be professional_.

"Ah, yes actually," Oliver replied, clearing his throat. "It's-uhm, it's about my sister, Thea."

"What about her?" Felicity asked neutrally.

"Well, she's attending rehab now," Oliver explained cautiously. She nodded.

"You mentioned," she remarked. "She booked herself into a centre the day after our press conference."

Felicity gave credit where credit was due. It took a lot of strength to acknowledge an addiction, and even more to decide to take the steps necessary to kick it. That Thea had seemingly been prompted by love for her brother and nephew heightened Felicity's opinion of the young woman.

"That's right," he confirmed before continuing. "Well, her centre allows for short family visits on holidays and special occasions. I was wondering if I could take William to see her on Christmas Day. Just for like an hour or so."

Felicity pursed her lips and considered his request for several moments. Finally, the pleading look in his eyes, and the knowledge of William's love for his aunt, regardless of her substance abuse problems, combined with the holiday spirit, made her decision.

"For a short visit," she cautioned him. "And he shouldn't be left alone with her. But I don't see how it could do any harm."

Oliver beamed broadly at her, and Felicity felt butterflies in her chest for the first time since Cooper, her first ever boyfriend.

Oh, that wasn't good. This was going to be trouble, she just knew it.

Maybe _this_ was the other shoe she kept waiting for.


	12. Christmastime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow.**

**Hey guys! Sorry I didn't update last week, I was admitted to hospital for treatment after my chronic illness flared up and couldn't write. I'm improving now but still weak. Thankfully I'm back at home though.**

**Here's the new chapter, thanks to everyone who enjoyed the last one.**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Twelve**

**Christmastime**

Lyla beamed as she watched little Connor play with his new toy truck. The truck had been a gift from herself and John, while Felicity had given him the small Woodie the Cowboy outfit he was wearing. Although it was too soon in the process for them to bring him to their home for a visit, or bring Sarah and JJ in to see him, Felicity had informed them that she was arranging a small party for her kids, and so they had left the kids with Johnny's mother while they went to dote over their son-to-be.

Looking around, the FBI director noticed that, although it was technically a party, mostly foster kids were being surrounded by their adoptive families-to-be or current foster families away from the other kids, with the social worker who connected them all moving between the groups, acting as hostess.

Speak of the devil.

Just then, Felicity appeared at her side with a bowl of treats she offered. "Can I get anything for you guys?" The smiling blonde inquired. "Drinks or something? Connor's doing okay?"

"Oh, he's happy out," Lyla grinned ruefully. "He's realized that, by banging his new truck really hard on different stuff, he can get different, loud noises out of it. It's been a wonderful revelation for him."

Felicity laughed, eyes twinkling fondly. "God, I love kids," she declared fondly, casting a smile at Johnny and Connor on the floor, where Johnny was trying to distract Connor from his banging by showing him how to make the wheels turn. Connor's dark eyes were wide with fascination as he reached out to spin the front one, a startled gasp escaping his mouth at his success.

"It's amazing how innocent they are," Lyla agreed. She and Johnny had both served several terms in Afghanistan, and she had then gone straight into the FBI Academy. It had shown her the worst of human nature. But her kids had shown her the best, giving her a breath of fresh air even when they were driving her insane. It was the same for Johnny when he was struggling with his own PTSD, she knew.

"So," Lyla changed the subject before she could feel her mood go down. "Is this a typical thing for social workers to do, organizing presents and parties for them, or is it just you?"

It hadn't escaped her shrewd gaze how much effort Felicity Smoak poured into her job, in a way that went far beyond being a workaholic. Lyla had read her file after talking to her about adopting Connor and she understood how much her job had to mean to the younger woman. Felicity Smoak _cared_ , deeply and truly, about every child entrusted to her care. She had suffered from the failures of the system for a long time before she had met her adoptive family, and she was determined to keep from letting of her own charges suffer like that as well, even at the cost to herself and her own personal life.

She was a woman to be admired, no one could possibly doubt or dispute that.

Felicity shrugged it off, her cheeks pinking slightly. "Not typical, no," she admitted. "But I'm not the only one who does stuff like this. We all try our best for the kids we look after. A lot of people see CPS as the enemy, think we want to take their kids away, break up families. But it's always ever a last resort, always what is judged to be in the best interest of the kids. My job is to protect my kids, and that means their emotional needs too. Organizing a few parties and presents for them to give them a bit of holiday cheer is hardly something to write to the newspapers about."

Lyla hummed in disagreement, but let it go and redirected the conversation to an amusing anecdote about Sarah and her decision to 'dye' her twin's hair green and red using paint for the holidays at day-care the other day, causing the social worker to burst out laughing before she excused herself from the conversation with Lyla to go over and talk to a teenager sulking in the corner. By the looks of it, he was the eldest, and he had come with Connor and a few others from the Glades Group Home (a.k.a: "The Refuge"), meaning he had no foster family or prospective adoptive ones at the moment. They were all under the charge of a stately-appearing elderly woman, Ms. Mary Xavier, a kind lady who'd been working at the group home since the seventies.

Johnny stood up shortly after Felicity had left, Connor in his arms and groaning slightly from the strain of sitting on the floor being used as the toddler's road substitute. He shifted Connor to his side, handing him the truck again before tears could threaten the peace, then wrapped an arm around Lyla's shoulder.

"You good?"

"I'm good," Lyla agreed warmly, leaning against him. "I love you."

"I love you too," he answered easily. He grinned when their gazes met. "Just think about it," he said hopefully. "This time next year, all going well, the five of us will be spending Christmas together."

Lyla's smile widened and she reached out to adjust Connor's cowboy hat, making him huff indignantly for a second before a light on the truck flashing distracted him again. Clearly, the toy had been a good choice.

"I get the feeling Felicity isn't planning on letting anything go wrong," she said, before going up on tiptoe to kiss him. "And I certainly amn't."

The only thing that could've improved the moment was if the documents were signed already and the twins were there too.

Next year, she consoled herself. Next year, her whole family would spend Christmas together, not apart.

* * *

Christmas had always been a big deal for the Queen family, both before and after William's arrival into the world. Samantha too had loved the holiday, and for Will's sake, she and Oliver had put a lot of effort into making things as great as could be for their son. It was the only time of year save his birthday that she wouldn't fuss (out of the child's earshot of course) about Will being overly spoiled by his father and rich paternal family.

They split the holidays and alternate years. He would spend the week leading up to Christmas Day dinner with one parent on one year before spending Boxing Day with the other, staying until New Years' Day. In addition, the parent he wasn't spending the night with would come over for Christmas Eve dinner and to spend a few hours with him, opening one or max two gifts.

They had talked about bringing him to the famous 'Queen Christmas Party' a few times, but Samantha had wanted to wait until he was a little older, maybe ten, and Oliver had acquiesced. While his family had always loved and celebrated the holiday lavishly, and he'd enjoyed the parties, he was aware that when he was younger, a lot of his enjoyment had come from him and Tommy running around playing tricks together. If he'd been alone, as Will would probably be, he'd have likely been bored to tears from not having somebody to play with.

Last year they had cancelled the party, the second time they'd done so. The first time had been when Oliver was twenty-three, the year Robert died. Even though Samantha's death was much closer to the holiday (Robert's yacht had gone down in mid-summer), the memories had all been too fresh. The party was still on this year as far as he knew, but Oliver wouldn't be attending. He had refused all his mother's attempts to reach out. Maybe later he'd be able to release his anger and restore his relationship with her, but right now the memory of her actions was too raw for him to forgive her.

Oliver had taken from the eighteenth to the third of January off, just over two weeks, and on the Sunday before Christmas, the two Queen men spent the day decorating the apartment and baking Christmas themed treats. (William in particular had managed to bake his first ever batch of red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese icing from scratch mostly on his own-they were his favourite flavours, and the young boy was bursting with pride at his success.)

They'd also made a Yule log, Christmas cookies, shortbread and more. As per tradition, a specific tray had been set aside just for Santa.

Now, on Christmas Eve afternoon, Oliver was pulling into the parking lot of the private, expensive rehab centre where he had gotten clean and his sister was currently living. He'd given Dig the holidays off to spend with his family. He _was_ capable of driving himself places, despite what Dig joked. Will was in the back of the car, a shiny-purple wrapped gift for Thea resting on his knees. A bag of baked treats was laying beside him on the backseat.

"Ready to see Aunt Thea, Bud?" Oliver asked as cheerfully as possible, trying to hide his nerves. God, he hoped this went well.

Will nodded eagerly. "Yeah, it's been _aaggeess_!" He replied, cheerful at the prospect of seeing his aunt again after the best part of two months without contact. Of course, he had no idea of the true reason why Oliver had abruptly severed contact with his family. As far as Will was concerned, Thea was sick and had to stay away from him to keep him catching it, while Moira had done something very bad and was in trouble because of it. Not a complete lie, but missing large chunks of the truth as well.

"Remember, Aunt Thea's been sick okay?" Oliver cautioned the boy. "So she's staying here to get better. And she probably doesn't have a present for you because she can't go shopping right now, so don't be upset about it if she doesn't have something for you."

"Yeah, Daddy, I _know_ ," the boy huffed, seeming more like a seventeen-year-old than a seven-year-old. Oh puberty, how dearly Oliver _wasn't_ looking forward to it. "You've already told me, like, twenty million times!" Will added exasperatedly.

Oliver was pretty sure he'd only said it twice at most, but he indulged his son. "Okay, okay, sorry!" He raised his hands in surrender. "I'll stop being annoying. C'mon, let's go inside and see Aunt Thea."

Will hurried ahead, and Oliver quickly caught up with him, grabbing the hand that wasn't holding the present and shooting his son a scolding look that made the kid duck his head in acknowledgement and apology. They made their way to the reception where they were directed to a private room to wait for Thea to come.

It was a regular room, with blue-grey walls, two leather sofas and a glass coffee table. It was also decorated with some Christmas lights, tinsel and a life-sized snowman sticker, a mini-Christmas tree in the corner.

Thea arrived after about five minutes, just after a worker brought in a tray of treats, and hot chocolate for each of them. Usually Oliver would've gone for coffee or a herbal tea, but he knew that Thea wasn't allowed it right now, so he chose hot chocolate out of solidarity.

"Aunt Thea!" Will cried at the sight of his aunt, leaping to his feet and rushing over to fling his small arms around her waist.

"Will!" She cried back, embracing him tightly, crouching down to be level with him.

Oliver rose to his feet as they hugged, studying his sister. She looked tired and drawn, and thinner than when he'd seen her last. She'd also gotten her hair cut to her chin in a style that caused it to curl around her ears and made her look even more delicate. But despite her pale complexion, there was an air of maturity around her that made him proud.

Finally, she released Will from her grip and stood a bit shakily, looking at Oliver with a nervous smile. "Hi Ollie," she said in soft voice, her big eyes reminding him of the days when she was a little girl who thought he was a hero and followed him everywhere he went.

He smiled at her, opening his own arms in an invitation for a hug. "Hey Speedy," he murmured. She dashed over, wrapping her arms (definitely thinner) around his torso and burying her face in the crook of his neck.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for everything," she whispered in his ear, hiccupping slightly. "I'm really sorry Ollie. Please don't hate me."

"Hey, it's okay," he crooned back, rocking her slightly, like she was five and had come to him for comfort after a nightmare because their parents were away. "You made a mistake, but you're fixing it. _Nothing_ you do would _ever_ make me hate you."

Finally they separated and Thea wiped at her eyes, sniffing slightly.

"Auntie Thea, are you okay?" Will asked worriedly. She smiled at him, eyes shimmering a bit.

"I'm fine, sweet boy," she replied affectionately. "I've just missed you guys, that's all."

"Daddy said you're sick," Will informed her. "And that you're staying here until you're better. Are you better yet?"

"Not fully, but soon," she answered honestly. "But I don't wanna talk about that. Tell me about what my favourite boy's been doing this past month! It's been ages since I've seen you!"

"Oh, your present!" Will exclaimed, reminded abruptly when the light caught the sparkly wrapping paper. "Open it first!"

She smiled brightly as she accepted the gift, a hint of guilt in her voice when she spoke next. "Oh, thank you sweetie! But you didn't have to. I haven't got anything for you two."

"That's okay," Will replied dismissively. "I've got loads of presents under the tree already, and Santa's due tonight anyway. I don't need anything else."

Oliver gave a proud smile to his son. Despite his spoiling of the boy, William was already proving to be a far better child than Oliver had been at that age. If it was Oliver who was told at seven that his aunt didn't have a present for him after a month of not seeing him (holidays or not), he'd have thrown an epic fit that wouldn't have been appeased until he was given some new toy that he'd promptly forget about ten minutes later. Will was so much better than he was, and Oliver was so proud of that.

Thea smiled affectionately at the child, her own eyes glinting with pride for his caring nature.

"I'll have something for you after I get out," she promised, before beginning to tear at the wrapping. "Okay, let's open this awesome gift, shall we?"

She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, eyes shimmering, as she took in the present William had spent several hours painstakingly choosing.

It was a white-gold locket in the shape of a star with Celtic knots engraved on the surface and a garnet (her birthstone) shining in the centre. When she opened the locket to look inside, it showed a picture of her with their parents and Oliver on one side, and then another photo of Thea with William at one of his Little League games on the other.

"Oh, it's beautiful," Thea sniffed.

Will beamed in delight at her happiness. "I designed it myself," he told her excitedly. "And I picked the metal and the shape and the gem. It's your birthstone," Will informed her happily. "A garnet. The jeweller said it symbolizes happiness, wealth and health."

"Wow," Thea said, voice hoarse.

Will's smile dimmed slightly. "Do you like it?" He asked anxiously. "You're crying. I thought you'd like it."

"I don't like it," Thea corrected him. "I _love_ it. But I love you more. Come here and give your auntie a hug, would you? This is the best present I've ever gotten."

Will hurried to oblige, and Oliver pulled out his phone to snap a photo of the two hugging each other tightly, feeling a knot in his chest ease. The estrangement from his sister had weighed heavily on him. Will was worth it, no question, but it was still so hard to deal with, given how much he loved Speedy.

With this visit, it felt as if things were finally beginning to get back to the way they were meant to be at last.


	13. Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moira makes a move

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. Thanks for everyone who reviewed this story. Remember to wear masks and social distance! Christmas and a vaccine are both coming, but that's no reason to worsen this terrible situation. Stay strong and follow public health advice, and we CAN get through this!**

**Just a bit longer.**

**In relation to the story, the first section happens at the start of December, while the second is in late February. This chapter is not friendly to Rene Ramirez or Moira Queen.**

**Read, enjoy, and review!**

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Revenge Is A Dish Best Served Cold**

Rene Ramirez stared down blankly at the bottle in front of him. To his dismay, he saw that it was almost empty, maybe half-a-swig left in it. He couldn't bring himself to move and get more. His mind was foggy and full of despair.

They had taken her away. His baby girl was gone. It wasn't the first time the system had taken her away, but he had been informed it was to be the last. He had been officially deemed unfit, and run out of chances. The documents dissolving his parental rights had been delivered to him that morning (or was it yesterday? Weeks or maybe even months ago? Time was warping in his drunken, grieving mind.).

His CNRI-attainted lawyer had been kind, but clear on the matter. He had used up all of his chances, and repeatedly backslid when the going got too tough. Even worse, he had gone after his kid's social worker in a fit of drunken rage right after being told that he had used up his last chance. Smoak hadn't pressed charges, which was a small silver lining, but there was a restraining order now in place, and with that violent outburst now marring his already stained record, his chances of appealing the termination were zero, given how rare a restoration of parental rights was for someone untainted by a string of drug and now violent charges. It had also caused the courts to decide not to allow him visitation with his daughter. There was nothing more Armand could do. It was _possible_ that _maybe_ in the future, _if_ he didn't get _any_ more strikes on his record, that he would be allowed to have some visits, but only possible.

The most likely chance he had of ever again seeing Zoe was when she aged out of the system, and was able to decide for herself whether to see him or not, and who was to say she would even want to see him after all of his fuckups? He'd seen the bitter disappointment and hurt in her dark eyes when Smoak had taken her away that final time back in November. He had failed her, broken his promise that things would be different this time around (again) and they all knew it.

That was why he was drinking. If there was no hope, why shouldn't he just give up? Drink himself to death as he cursed himself for his stupidity and Smoak for being the face of the system that took his baby girl away from him.

The doorbell rang, breaking through the drunken haze that was clouding his angry thoughts, and he lifted his head to peer at the direction of the door, wondering if the noise had been his imagination. Even if it hadn't been, he was uninterested in rising and abandoning his drink to answer the door. There couldn't be a good reason for someone to be at his door, after all.

Door-to-door salesmen didn't bother going around the poverty-stricken Glades, and nor were there any little Girl Scouts wandering around selling cookies either. Nobody had the money to waste to put their kids into costly clubs, and on the scant chance they could swing something like that, they wouldn't let their child wander around the Glades asking the bitter and poor people of the neighbourhood for their scant, hard-earned money. Age was only a slight protection against a few in this place.

The only reason he could picture somebody coming to the door was a friend wanting to try and comfort him over losing Zoe, something he had no interest in dealing with, or else a representative of his landlord wanting to nag him over his late rent or something similar. To be honest, he had no idea when he had last paid it, or when it was next due. He had no desire to abandon his brooding and drinking to deal with either scenario, and the second had a high chance of him being arrested for assault when he inevitably lost his temper and punched the pretentious asshole always sent by the landlord to collect and discuss rents and bills and whatever.

But then the sound of the bell ringing was replaced by the sound of the door being forced open and he lurched to his feet, swaying for a moment before he began staggering out into the small hall. There was a tall man there, standing before the open door. He had pale skin, a shaved head, and a body that spoke of many hours spent working out. His hands were calloused, and even drunk as he was, Rene knew the signs of a man who was experienced in the use of guns when he saw one. He spied a holster hidden beneath the man's long grey coat too.

"Rene Ramirez?" He asked when Rene staggered into his hallway.

"Whose askin'?" Rene demanded belligerently in response, glowering back at the man. Who cared if the guy shot him? Now Zoe was gone and he had no chance of ever getting her back, Rene sure as fuck didn't give a damn.

"Cyrus Gold, on behalf of Moira Queen," the man replied, startling Rene. Moira Queen? How the fuck did Moira Queen, the richest and most famous woman in Starling City, know he even existed, and what the hell did she want with him?

"What the hell does Moira Queen want with me?" Rene stated his thoughts aloud, utterly bewildered. He was so confused that his thoughts were starting to clear, much to his disappointment.

"That's for her to tell you," Gold answered. He cast his gaze over Rene's sloven appearance, taking in the dirty Starling Archers t-shirt and oil-stained jeans that he'd been wearing for more than a week, the smell from lack of showering and the days-old scruff covering his chin. "Mrs. Queen doesn't like being kept waiting," Gold remarked with a grimace. "But she hates messes even more. Get cleaned up and put your best clothes on. She has an offer to give you."

"What sorta offer?" Rene huffed. He didn't trust the one percent who hoarded their riches for themselves and left the people of the Glades to struggle and starve and fight to live through each day. Out of sight and out of mind, and as a result not their problem, that's what the elite of Starling believed about the people of the poor quarter of the city, and the Queens were at the top of that list. Whatever Moira Queen wanted with him, Rene was certain that it wouldn't mean anything good for him.

But Gold's next words made his heart stop beating his chest and a tendril of hope he'd previously been bereft of begin to unfurl and grow within him. After all, part of the reason he resented the one percenters so much was because they got whatever they desired with a splash of cash, regardless of the legality of it. This could very well be a genuine chance.

"An offer that will see you getting your daughter back."

* * *

Cyrus Gold was Moira Queen's personal 'fixer'. Whenever she had an inconvenient problem that would embarrass her family, she sent him to 'take care of it'. He had dealt with many different scenarios over the years, ranging from countless of Robert Queen's mistresses, Oliver's exes who wanted to make a quick buck, and employees disgruntled over being fired for whatever reason.

When Emiko Adachi had come looking for her paternal family, Cyrus had been the one Moira sent to direct her away, using a mixture of bribery (replacing the savings the Adachis had drained paying for Kazumi's chemo treatments as well as another billion dollars on top) and threats to force the girl into signing a contract that kept her away from the Queens. Isabel Rochev had ended up in prison for embezzlement after Moira learned that she was succeeding in convincing Robert he should leave his wife for her. Cyrus had been one who planted the evidence and testified against her, pretending he had been ordered to investigate a discrepancy during the trial. Many of Oliver's youthful drunken escapades had been covered up by Cyrus' efforts. Had the DUI not been so public, he would've been sent to deal with that as well, and he was confident that, had Moira learned of Samantha Clayton's pregnancy first, he would have been ordered to deal with that too. It wouldn't have been the first time a lover of one of the Queen men had an 'accident' that cost them a pregnancy on Moira's orders.

He watched in silence as his boss instructed Rene Ramirez on what he was to do. In return for Ramirez 'taking care of' the social worker Felicity Smoak who had done so much damage to her image and her relationship with Oliver, Moira would ensure that young Zoe Ramirez was returned to her father's custody. Furthermore, the matriarch of the Queen family would also arrange for him to receive a better paying job, one that would let him escape the Glades and give his small family a better life, with enough money to send Zoe to a college of her choosing. Cyrus could tell that she had the guy, whose eyes had been shining with greed since he'd heard the amount he would be receiving up front (half a million dollars, with another half on the successful completion of the job, all deposited into a secret account in the Caymans).

Cyrus had spent several weeks determining the best candidate for someone to deal with Smoak. Rene Ramirez was the latest person with a record of violence who had motive to go after the blonde social worker and had once been fired from a job for theft. Moira would usually have sent Cyrus himself to do the deed, but she wanted to make it appear that it was an act of revenge, should the police dig too deep. Given that Smoak was the adopted daughter of a decorated detective, that was likely. Cyrus expected there was a high chance that Ramirez would soon also be having a fatal accident, probably while drunk, and any trace of the payment and account Moira had organized would disappear.

Moira Queen did not like leaving loose ends, and that was exactly what Ramirez would be once he had completed his job.

"Do we have a deal, Mr. Ramirez?" Moira asked, as cool and confident organizing the murder of an innocent woman purely because she hadn't yielded to Moira's will as she was when ordering a new dress from her tailor.

Ramirez's dark eyes glinted with greed as he looked over the documents. "And you'll make sure I'm not found out?" He double-checked, hesitating before accepting the pen she was holding out to him. Moira gave a cool smile that failed to reach her cold blue eyes. Oliver's eyes were the same colour, but while his were reminiscent of the sky, hers were chips of ice, emotionless and sending a chill down the spines of those who met her.

She was a ruthless woman, who never forgave or forgot a slight, whose sole cares in life were for her family and their image. Felicity Smoak had not just embarrassed her family, and Moira especially, but she had (albeit unintentionally) caused a rift between Moira and her only son. Cyrus knew that the elegant blonde socialite wouldn't rest until she felt Smoak had paid for the offences Moira believed that she had committed.

He felt a stab of pity for the woman, who was only doing her job protecting children in dangerous environments (and being near to Moira Queen was most definitely a 'dangerous environment'), and quickly shoved it to the back of his mind. Regardless of his pity for Smoak, his loyalty was to himself and his bank account only. Moira Queen paid him handsomely for his services and his silence. He wasn't about to jeopardize that for any reason, certainly not some woman he had never met and didn't care about.

"Of course," Moira agreed. "And you will, of course, ensure that nothing leads back to us either."

"Alright," Ramirez agreed finally, snatching the pen from her and scribbling his name messily on the dotted line.

Moira smirked coldly and reached out to shake his hand. "A pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Ramirez. I look forward to hearing news of your success in our mutual endeavours."

* * *

"I just can't wait for this to be over with," Iris groaned to her sister over the phone. Felicity smiled in amusement, well-used to the other woman's complaints about her pregnancy. "I swear, I am so tempted to just go to the hospital and demand that they do a c-section, right now. I can't see my own feet to put my shoes, my back is aching all the time, I can't sleep and I have heartburn. I want this to be over with already!"

"And then you'll have the joys on a newborn to contend with instead," Felicity reminded her with a grin that Iris would've murdered her for wearing if she had been present to see it.

She flicked on the indicator to turn left. She was on her way to drop Craig Abbott back to his foster home after a visit to his grandmother, who was his sole living relative and currently living in a nursing home due to brain damage from a stroke, when Iris, who was in her eighth month of pregnancy now, had called to bemoan the 'joys' of being pregnant. Craig himself was texting his girlfriend, Megan, so Felicity felt it was alright to take the call from her sister.

"3am feeds, diaper changes," Felicity listed. "Possible sibling rivalry from the twins..."

"Ugh, I hate you," Iris complained.

Felicity laughed it off, knowing that Iris didn't mean it. When she'd been first fostered by the Wests, she had taken each irritated or jokingly annoyed comment made by her sister to heart. She had covered up her hurt and fear of being sent to yet another home with the rebellious anger that had been her default at the time, but every comment had hurt far more than she had let Iris know. But eventually she had realized that the other girl never meant it, that she loved Felicity as much as Felicity had come to love her, and now she could hear those remarks and simply laugh them off without batting an eyelid, confident in her sister's support and love. They might not share genetics, but they were as close as any blood sisters.

In her side mirror, Felicity saw an old, black truck speeding up. It looked like it was trying to overtake her as she prepared to turn off the highway, and was definitely going above the speed limit.

"It's not that much longer," Felicity offered soothingly to Iris, glancing in the rear-view mirror to check on Craig, seeing that he was still intent on his phone. "And then you'll be splitting the suffering with Barry."

"Good," Iris replied petulantly. "He deserves to suffer. This is all his fault in the first place."

Felicity was about to reply when the black truck came up to beside her and stayed there. Some instinct had her turn her head and look directly at the tinted window as it lowered just enough to show the barrel of a gun. She screamed in panic without planning to, and faintly, through the sound of the loud 'crack!' 'crack!' 'crack!' Of the gunshots, she heard Craig's terrified yells and Iris' frantic cries as she felt a sudden pain hit her torso and lost her grip on the wheel, smacking her head against the wheel when she automatically curled in on herself.

The last thing she saw, as the car started turning over itself, each roll jerking her, was the black truck zooming off. Her vision went black as Iris's pleas for her to answer echoed in her ears.

Her final thought was a prayer that Craig was okay.


	14. Waiting for News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word begins to spread about the attack on Felicity

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. I'm glad everyone's still following. This is a bit of a filler chapter and then I'm pausing my writing for a short hiatus while term ends and I get my assignments done. I have most of January off, so I'll be focusing on my stories (especially wrapping up Artemis) then.**

**BTW, I'm not a medical professional of any sort, so, as with foster system procedures, any medical stuff I write is entirely made up for story purposes. Please don't send me any reviews saying 'that's not realistic', 'that wouldn't happen', etc. This is fanfiction, meaning it's made up. Remember that please.**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Waiting for News**

Iris felt her heart jump into her throat from sheer terror at the gunshot, followed by Felicity's scream and that of a teenage boy, and then the horrifying sound that she knew in heart was her sister losing control of the car.

"Felicity!" She cried frantically, hoping against all reason that her sister was unharmed. "Felicity! Answer me, please!"

There was no reply. Instead the phone went dead. Iris was frozen for several long moments, keeping the phone pressed against her ear. Then she heard one of the twins letting out an indignant cry, and she snapped out of her frozen state. Typically she would go straight to her crying child to see what the matter was, but now she ignored it. Whatever the problem was with the baby, it would keep, but she needed to call the emergency services straight away. Felicity and the boy with her needed to get to hospital immediately. She dialled the number with shaking hands, her heart thumping loudly and painfully in her chest.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?" A woman's voice answered the call, her voice cutting through the whooshing sound in her ears.

"I-I was on the phone with my sister when I heard a gunshot then she and the kid with her-her charge, she's a social worker and one of her kids was in the car with her-they both screamed, and I heard the car going out of control and then the phone went dead and-" her panicked ramble was cut off by the woman's soothing, calm tone.

"Do you know where your sister was when the incident occurred?"

"I, I think she said she was on the highway, heading to Exit 41, to Ivy Town," Iris said unsteadily. "I don't have a more specific location though."

"Alright, well EMTs and police are being deployed to the highway now," the woman assured her. "And from your description I expect that we're probably going to have more calls regarding the incident soon, which will give us a more precise idea of where to send them."

"O, okay," Iris stammered. "I-I need to call, I need to call my family, I need to go to the hospital, I'm her next-of-kin. What hospital-?"

"Probably Starling General," the woman answered. "It's closest to the highway. Just stay calm. First responders are on their way to your sister's location. Do you know the name of the boy with your sister so we can contact his guardians?"

"Craig, but I don't know his surname," Iris sniffled. "Her colleagues at Starling's DCPS will know."

"Alright, we'll have the hospital contact them," the social worker. "Ma'am, I recommend that you don't drive right now. Call a cab or ask a friend for a lift, but you're too upset to drive."

"I'll get my husband," Iris agreed. "Starling General, you said?"

"That's right," the woman confirmed. "I'm sorry ma'am, but I have to go. Just hang in there. EMTs are almost there by now, and they and the doctors will do everything they can for your sister and Craig."

"Yes, thank you," Iris croaked out before the woman wished her and her family well and hung up. Iris was dazed and blank for a few moments, trying to get to grips with the situation, before motherly instinct trumped sisterly fear, and she finally began making her way to the twins' nursery to tend whichever one of her children was calling for attention, dialling Barry's number as she staggered up the stairs.

* * *

Caitlin had been on a coffee break when she heard a pair of ER doctors talking about the two people who had been rushed to the hospital after a hit-and-run of some sort. A woman in her early-to-mid twenties and a teenage boy. The boy had a severe concussion, a million cuts from shattered glass, a broken leg, arm and two cracked ribs. He was in bad shape, but he would live, and recover, though he would need physical therapy. His guardian was at his side, and seemed as distraught as a biological parent would be in the same situation, something her colleagues commended the woman on.

But the news wasn't so hopeful for the woman who was in the crash/shooting. Apparently, she was in a critical state. She had been taken straight through surgery on arrival and was still there, nearly three hours later. Her family was gathered in the waiting room of the emergency room for news.

Caitlin didn't really think much of the conversation she had overheard. It was tragic of course, but it was the sort of thing one heard on a daily basis when you worked in Starling City's main hospital. She imagined only Glades Memorial had worse problems, partially from its location and partially because it was smaller, with less resources and staff (not to mention gangs liked to raid its medicine stores for drugs to take and sell).

So, feeling a jab of pity for the poor young woman whose life was hanging in the balance and the anxious family waiting to learn if she would live or not, the young doctor finished off her sandwich and coffee, dumped her rubbish and returned to the ER to get back to work. Her shift was only half over, after which she and Tommy would go out for dinner at an Italian restaurant they both loved. They'd had to cancel their last two date nights due to him being called in unexpectantly the first time and her having to take an extra shift the last time after their colleague came down with a bad case of the flu. Caitlin could only pray that nothing would interrupt this latest attempt to spend time with her boyfriend, because she really needed a relaxing night with him.

She was so lost in thought about her and Tommy's upcoming date that she ended up walking right into Barry, who was heading for the reception desk, a frustrated, strained look on his face.

"Barry?" She exclaimed in surprise, dread twisting her stomach into a sickening knot. "What are you doing here?" There was no good reason for her friend to be in the emergency room, hair messy and clothes in disarray, a wet spot that seemed like a tearstain on his shirt and a worried expression on his face. "Is Iris alright?"

God, Caitlin prayed she was alright. The baby wasn't due for another three months. Everybody would be rightfully devastated should something happen to either the unborn Baby Girl West-Allen or her mother.

"Iris is-well, not fine, none of us are fine, but she isn't-we aren't here for her," Barry explained, stumbling over his words, brow furrowed in worry. "It's-it's Felicity. She's in surgery, she's been in surgery for hours and we haven't had any news. I was just going to ask again, but they keep fobbing me off when I ask for an update. Do you think you could-?"

Caitlin felt her heart sink like a rock at his words, but she gathered herself and gave a nod, hands trembling, despite her surgeon's training designed to prevent that sort of thing.

"I'll see what I can find out," she promised shakily. "Go back to the waiting room, I'll be there as soon as I can." Expression tight with worry and tension, Barry nodded and went back to the waiting room. It was a mark of how anxious that he was for Felicity that he had gone past 'anxious babbling' into 'grim silence'. Caitlin swallowed the bile threatening to rise within her and made her way to the staff lounge to see if she could find out anything.

Unfortunately, she only found out a little bit of news, and nothing good. The best thing was that they were hoping to close up soon, at which point she would be taken straight up to ICU. Even then, part of the reason they were finishing up was due to not wanting to put more strain than her best friend's body could take on her. She would probably need at least one other surgery soon.

Heart heavy, Caitlin went to the waiting room, where the West-Allen family was waiting anxiously for word. Joe was pacing in a tight circle, expression pinched and worried. Cecile, seated on a chair with an uncharacteristically slumped posture, looked shockingly unkept, make-up smudged from crying, tear tracks running down her cheeks and professional skirt suit rumpled. The couple may not have been Felicity's biological parents, they might not have met her until she was sixteen, but nobody could ever say they didn't love her as dearly as if she were their daughter by blood.

Iris was sitting beside her stepmother, rubbing her stomach with mechanical movements as she stared ahead at the wall with a blank expression, dried tearstains on her cheeks and Barry's arm wrapped around her. Wally and the twins weren't there, unsurprisingly. Wally was off touring the world, and might not even know what had happened yet, depending on whether his parents had managed to reach him or not, while the twins were too young to spend hours waiting in the hospital to discover if their aunt was going to die or not. Iris and Barry had probably left them with their neighbour, a kind woman named Kazumi Adachi who was always happy to babysit for the kids in the neighbourhood on short notice.

When she came over, they turned to her with hopeful looks.

"Any news?" Cecile asked eagerly, leaning into her.

Caitlin swallowed, then broke the news. "The surgery should be over soon. It's going as good as could be expected, but Felicity's still in critical condition. She coded once, en route to the hospital, and she's in bad shape. They had to remove part of her spleen, it was nicked by some glass that she was stabbed by when the car rolled. She also has two broken ribs, one of which nearly but didn't quite catch her lung. That being said, they have to be very careful to keep it from doing so. She was shot twice, once in the clavicle and then her upper chest. I know that the angle she was at probably saved it from being a fatal hit and she lost a lot of blood. They've given her two transfusions already. I'm sorry, I don't know anything else."

Iris groaned and turned to bury her head in Barry's shoulder as he embraced her and her body shook with sobs. Cecile sat back down heavily, a dazed, stricken expression on her face. Joe turned and hit the wall, growling a curse.

"When I get my hands on the bastard that did this, they'll regret ever being born!" he snarled when he turned back to them, his dark eyes shimmering with helpless rage and his hands clenching into fists. Caitlin had never seen him so genuinely furious like this before, and it was an unsettling sight. She had only ever seen Joe as a kind, caring man. Seeing him lose his temper, realizing that he _had_ a temper, shook her more than she would ever have expected it to. Then again, this day had been so long and awful already, seeing Joe lose his temper was probably just the straw that broke the camel's back, and she started to cry.

"Oh, Caitlin, honey," Cecile murmured, pushing herself up and tugging her into a hug as well. Joe swiftly joined them, followed by Barry and Iris, and they all cried together for Felicity.

* * *

"Hey, Ollie, it's me."

Oliver was surprised, not by the person ringing but by the uncharacteristic grimness of his tone. Tommy Merlyn was not a man made for melancholy or unhappiness. He was always cheerful and warm, so the gravity of his voice showed the seriousness of whatever he was calling around. The last time he had sounded so unhappy was during Malcolm's trial, when it came out that he had murdered a man he (falsely) believed was Rebecca's killer and that he was planning to bomb the Glades, blaming it in a twisted way for his wife's death.

Thank God one of the guards he'd hired to transport the bomb had a conscious and came forward on learning what his employer had planned, otherwise it could have been a tragedy of epic proportions.

"Hey Tommy," Oliver replied. "What's wrong?"

Tommy gave a mirthless laugh. "That obvious, huh?"

"I've been your best friend since we were in diapers," Oliver pointed out, rather than admitting that yes, it would be that obvious even to a stranger.

"So, that's a 'yes, it is that obvious,'" Tommy, who knew Oliver as well as Oliver knew Tommy, concluded with a sigh. "Well, whatever. Doesn't matter. Listen, Ollie, it's about Felicity."

"Felicity?" Oliver repeated. "My Fe-Will's social worker, Felicity? Your girlfriend's best friend?" (That had been an amusing coincidence to discover). "That Felicity?"

"Do we know another Felicity that you're half in love with?" Tommy retorted. Oliver didn't bother to try denying it again. Tommy and John had proven that they would never believe him when he denied caring more than was appropriate about the beautiful blonde, and truthfully, they would be right.

He was resisting it for his son's sake, but he knew he was attracted, deeply so, to Felicity Smoak. Hell, he was severely underplaying it when he called it attraction.

But then, it was hard not to care about her. She was the whole package, three times as smart as him (if he was being egotistical about his intelligence) with a Mensa membership since she was fifteen, beautiful and kind. She could've been a self-made billionaire if she wanted, gone into research and built her own company, but instead she had devoted herself to being a champion for kids who the world forgot about or didn't care about.

How could somebody spend more than a few minutes around her without falling head-over-heels?

"I've got some bad news," Tommy confessed. "She was in a hit-and-run earlier while taking one of her charges back to his guardians."

"Oh, God," Oliver breathed, feeling the blood drain from his face. He ran a trembling hand over his face and through his short hair. "Is she-are they okay? How's the kid? Can you tell me anything?" He hoped that the kid hadn't been too hurt in the incident. It was obvious from their discussions how fiercely Felicity cared for her charges. If one of them had been badly hurt, she would be devastated, and probably blame herself. And as for Felicity herself...Oliver didn't want to contemplate the prospect of her being hurt. She _had_ to be alright.

Tommy was quiet for a moment, before letting out a heavy sigh.

"You'll have to keep it to yourself, and I can't go into detail," Tommy warned him. "Doctor-patient confidentiality. I'm only agreeing because you're my best friend and I know you won't gossip, plus you're in love with her."

"Of course not," Oliver replied, slightly affronted by the implication that he might, even if he understood where his oldest friend was coming from. Doctor-patient confidentiality was important, and he was kind of stunned that Tommy, who was fiercely ethical and black-and-white in his view of the world, was agreeing to tell him anything at all.

"They're both alive," Tommy told him. "Kid's in rough shape, but should be discharged by next week if there are no complications. He'll need some PT and therapy for a while though. Poor kid's shaken up. Seems like his foster mom is a good woman though, really seems to care about him. She rushed right here the moment she heard and she's with him 24/7."

"That's good," Oliver remarked. "And, and what about Felicity? How is she?"

Tommy was silent for several horrifying moments before heaving a sigh and admitting softly, "she's in bad shape, Ollie. I can't give you the details, but she coded at least once, and she was in surgery for hours. Got shot and then lost control of the car because of it. She ended up taking the worst of the damage. They've put her in an induced coma to let her heal, and she's been moved to ICU."

"Will she be okay?" Oliver asked blankly.

"I really don't know, Oliver," Tommy replied softly. "But her doctor, Dr Wells, is very good. A bit annoying personality wise, but one of the best surgeons in the country. I promise, he'll do everything he can for her."

"Right," Oliver mumbled. He frowned slightly. "Did you say Dr Wells?"

"Yeah, your nanny, Jesse's dad," Tommy confirmed. "He's an arrogant bastard, but he's earned it."

"Good," Oliver said woodenly. "Look, Tommy, I gotta go. I need to break the news to Will." His son was going to be devastated, Oliver thought glumly. Will worshipped the ground Felicity walked on.

"Yeah, and I have to get back to Cate," Tommy agreed. "She's shattered. I don't want her driving home when she's like this."

Oliver mumbled an acknowledgement, and they said their goodbyes before hanging up. Oliver put the phone down and buried his head in his hands, saying a mental prayer.

_'Please, don't let her die'_ Oliver begged. _'Don't take another mother from my son. Let me tell her how I feel. Please.'_


	15. Real-Life Sleeping Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The SCPD investigates the attack

_**Before anything else, preparation is the key to success.**_ - _ **Alexander Graham Bell**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. This is a slightly shorter than usual chapter, meant to both bridge the gaps between the last chapter and the next one (almost there. Climax and epilogue I believe), and also as a Christmas present to my loyal and amazing readers. I freely admit to being half asleep while editing this, so sorry if I missed a bunch of mistakes.**

**Merry Christmas and a happy New Years to all! (Please God let 2021 be less memorable than 2020-the phrase "may you live in interesting times" was originally a curse, you know).**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow. This is a slightly shorter than usual chapter, meant as a Christmas present to my loyal and amazing readers. I freely admit to being half asleep while editing this, so sorry if I missed a bunch of mistakes.**

**Merry Christmas and a happy New Years to all! (Please God let 2021 be less memorable than 2020-the phrase "may you live in interesting times" was originally a curse, you know).**

**Stay safe and follow government guidelines! Vaccines are being rolled out, just hang on a bit longer and we can go back to normal. Just a few more months guys!**

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Real-life Sleeping Beauty**

Captain Quentin Lance would never admit it to anybody, but he let out a sigh of relief when the lead hinting that Laurel might've had some connection to the attack on Felicity Smoak was determined to be wrong. He had hated to even consider it, but since the whole scandal had come to light, he had seen a new side to Laurel.

It was a bitter, selfish side that only cared for her own wants and sought revenge against any slights, real or perceived, against her. She had railed again and again, both in private and in public, against Felicity Smoak for being the card that sent the house tumbling down around her, and even against young William for, well, for existing as far as Quentin could tell. She showed her hidden, cruelty when drunk, and she had been a serious suspect. Much as he loved his daughter, he couldn't pretend to like this part of her.

Quentin persisted in declaring that under no circumstances would she had done something like that while sober but privately, he'd considered her doing so while pissed as a genuine possibility, much as he despised the disloyal thought. Thankfully, a short investigation into Laurel's alibi of 'some bar' that cleared her, after sending some officers out to canvas Laurel's usual haunts. As it turned out, she had spent the best part of the day sleeping off the previous night's binge in the backroom of her favourite bar, Deville, when the bartender failed to reach either Quentin himself or Sara to collect her. Seeing as there was CCTV footage, and a quick check of Laurel's financials proved she was in no shape to rent an apartment, let alone hire somebody to attack the social worker she blamed for her life being ruined, she was soon cleared of any suspicion, much to the Lance family's relief.

As upsetting as it was to learn that Laurel had spent an entire night drinking herself into a stupor, it was better by far than her having no verifiable alibi and becoming one of the foremost suspects in the investigation. Having an alcoholic for a daughter was fixable, having a murderess for a daughter was not.

But as relieving as it was to have her removed from the list of possible assailants, it still left them grasping for a new suspect.

They were pouring more effort than usual into the case for multiple reasons. One was that Felicity Smoak had connections, in the form of being the social worker who facilitated the adoption of Bruce Wayne's youngest adoptive son and only adopted daughter, Tim and Cassandra. The woman must've been one of the most charismatic people on earth, because she had gained the adoration of all eight children, both adoptive and biological, as well as becoming good friends with Wayne and his long-term partner, Silena Kyle too. They were putting pressure on City Hall for the case to be solved, and City Hall was in turn pressuring the SCPD to pull results out of thin air.

The case had also drawn media attention due to Felicity Smoak being a sister to one of the Star's top investigative journalists and friends with another, Linda Park, who, if not for her genuine friendship with the victim, would surely have been having a hell of a time painting the tragic story of her seemingly saintlike friend's vicious attack, and the police department's subsequent failure to come up with any solid leads. As it was, she wasn't holding back, perhaps channelling her hurt and worry out via ripping apart the stalled investigation. Already in the week since the first report, there had been four articles about Smoak's attack, and five on the police department's climbing number of cold cases (not all written by Park herself, Quentin would be gracious enough to acknowledge that). The only silver lining in that was that the reporters were mainly focusing their criticism on the city politicians' lack of aid for the SCPD, drawing outrage from the public at the falling standards. Every statement released by the SCPD made it clear that they simply couldn't afford to hire anyone else or divert more of their slim budget to the forensics department, fanning the flames of public fury all the more. If they kept up the pressure, Quentin thought a budget increase might be in his department's future.

Another, more personal, reason was that Joseph West, although near to retiring from fieldwork, was still a highly respected and admired detective, head of Homicide for more than fifteen years, recipient of multiple awards and a mentor to many of the unis and younger detectives in the department. An attack on his family was an attack on the whole department.

So far, they had eliminated several suspects other than Laurel (mostly parents or guardians whose abuse or neglect of their child was discovered by Felicity), checked and confirmed that the young boy, a teenager named Craig Abbott who attended Garfield High in the Glades and was the foster son of Joan Baez, who worked as a special needs teacher at a local nursery school, was most definitely _not_ the target.

His parents had died in a robbery gone wrong when he was two, leaving him with pretty much nothing, and his frail grandmother had been in a nursing home since her stroke three years past, leading to Craig going into care. The entire family had been as law-abiding as any Glades' residents could be, and Craig himself was spoken of as a good student, in line to become captain of the basketball team after the current captain graduated next year, with only a single detention for tardiness. His foster mother, too, had no reason to be targeted.

Harsh as it sounded, it was apparent that the unfortunate boy had simply been collateral damage.

There was a knock at the door, and McKenna Hall, one of the department's rising stars, about Laurel's age, stuck her head around the side. She looked pale and nervous, never a good sign when it came to briefing a superior.

"Sir," she greeted him respectfully. "I think I've found something on the Smoak case. It," she hesitated then exhaled. "It could be big Sir."

"What do you mean?" Quentin asked warily, gut twisting. It had been warning him about this whole case since the start, and now it might as well have been doing jumping jacks inside his stomach, so eager was it to alert him to the coming bad news.

Hall slipped inside the room and shut the door firmly behind her, before holding out a slim file out to him silently. Quentin swiftly grabbed it and scanned it once, mouth dropping open before he re-checked the evidence. The words on the page didn't change.

McKenna was wrong. This _might not_ be big, it _would be_ huge.

* * *

It took the best part of two weeks for Felicity to wake up from her coma. The doctors assured her distraught family that it was to be expected. After everything she had gone through, her body needed some time to rest and recover, and the coma was her body's way of doing so. In some ways, the coma was even a good thing, Caitlin insisted, trying to keep them as hopeful as possible. She wouldn't be moving around, trying to do stuff she wasn't physically well enough to do yet. After all, she had joked weakly, unable to hide the strained look in her blue eyes, they all knew what a nightmare of a patient Felicity was.

Cecile had let out a watery laugh that sounded more like a sob when she agreed. Joe had given the slightest shadow of a smile possible before it disappeared again as his gaze returned to Felicity's form. She had always been small, making up for her lack of height with ankle-breaking heels. Lying in the hospital bed, connected to a heart monitor, a monitor for her brain activity, and two IVs, one for a blood transfusion and one for nutrients, she looked like a fragile porcelain doll.

'Fragile' had never been a word used to describe Felicity Meghan Smoak. She'd had it rough her whole life and she had clawed her way out of the gutter, kicking and screaming. She was tough, stubborn, and determinedly optimistic, as if by letting the pain she'd suffered get the better of her, she would lose her mental war against her past tormentors.

Despite the doctors' initial optimism, the more time that passed without any sign of Felicity regaining consciousness, the more concerned their expressions grew.

The family rotated shifts so she was never alone, though Iris was limited by her pregnancy and toddlers, and Joe spent a lot of time taking full advantage of his position as the well-respected and liked Head Homicide Detective to get as much information on the case as possible. Meanwhile, Felicity's colleagues also popped in frequently to see how she was doing, bringing gifts and supplies for both the patient and her family, and mentioning the regular requests for news from Felicity's kids, all of whom were distraught and anxious to see her. All of those requests had been refused, of course. Their guardians, the social workers temporarily in charge of their cases and the Wests all agreed that it wasn't a good idea. Felicity wouldn't want them to see her in her current state, and it would only upset them all to realize how injured she was.

But finally, ten days after the attack, Cecile was sitting by her former foster daughter's bedside, reading documents related to a case without properly taking in the information, when a bleep from one of the monitors caught her attention. She quickly switched her attention, half-rising and reaching out to grab the alarm button.

When she looked down at Felicity's face, she saw that her daughter's eyes were half-open, glazed and unfocused, but open.

"Oh thank God," Cecile breathed out, tears filling her eyes as she covered her mouth with a hand to keep the sobs from escaping her.

"Mm Mom?" Felicity mumbled bemusedly, eyes darting around the room in confusion. "Wuh, what h'p'ned? Wherem I?"

"You're okay, you're okay," Cecile sobbed in response. "Oh, thank God Felicity! You're awake, you're going to be alright!"


	16. Giving Statements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the title said, the detectives question Felicity

**Hey, I'm back! Hope y'all enjoyed the holidays and that the readers of my other Arrow fic, Artemis, were happy with the ending.**

**Disclaimer, I don't own Arrow (if I did, Olicity would've had their deserved HEA with their two kids plus one or two more. As Oliver was snatched from them instead, I clearly don't, and must make up for the depressing ending in fanfics.)**

**As always, read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Giving Statements**

The day after Felicity woke up from her coma, the two detectives in charge of her case came to see her and question her about the shooting. She knew quite a few officers and detectives from her father and her job, but she wasn't familiar with these two. She had seen them around when at the station for various reasons, and her father had mentioned them offhandedly a few times, but she didn't know them personally. Probably for the best. Emotional compromise was a real thing.

"Ms. Smoak, it's wonderful to see you awake," said the older of the pair, a man with dark skin, greying hair and a goatee. "I'm Detective Lucas Hilton, and this is my partner, McKenna Hall." He gestured at the olive-skinned woman at his side, who smiled warmly at Felicity. "We're the ones investigating your shooting."

"Detectives," Felicity nodded at them tiredly. "Thanks, and I'm pleased to meet you. My father has spoken highly of you both. You're here for my statement, I guess?"

"We are, if you're up to it," Hilton confirmed. "I'm sorry to bother you right after you woke up, but the quicker we get your statement, the quicker we can catch this bastard."

"Of course, I understand," Felicity nodded. "Mom-"

"I'll go and get a fresh cup of coffee for myself," Cecile said, rising to her feet. She paused long enough to press a kiss to her daughter's forehead before slipping out the door.

Detective Hall took out a notepad and pen, perching on the chair while her partner remained standing, clearly making an effort not to appear as if he was looming or trying to intimidate Felicity.

"We'll be recording your statement while Detective Hall takes notes, if that's acceptable," Detective Hilton informed her as he pulled out a rather out-of-date and old-fashioned recorder.

Felicity was unsurprised at the dated equipment. Her father often complained about how underfunded the SCPD was, and the DCPS struggled with funding too. People didn't work for the government for the unending and modern resources. The TV in one of the playrooms at her workplace was from 2001, and Felicity frequently fixed it herself when it stopped working, in order to save the money they would have to spend buying a new one or hiring somebody for more important things.

"Sure," Felicity agreed, giving a quick nod and shifting slightly to try and get more comfortable (not an easy task when lying in a hospital bed-memory foam mattress it was _not_ ).

"So, please walk us through the events leading up to the shooting from your perspective," Hall requested, pen at the ready.

Felicity exhaled gustily and tilted her head towards the ceiling, concentrating on what had happened. "I was bringing one of my charges back to his foster home after a visit to his grandmother, who lives in a nursing home," she began. "We were on the highway, and my sister, Iris, called. I wouldn't often take personal calls when I have one of my kids with me, but Iris is pregnant and having a bit of a hard time at the moment, and Craig was texting his girlfriend and not paying attention, so I figured it'd be fine.

I noticed a truck coming up behind me-"

"What kind of truck?" Hilton interrupted. "Can you remember?"

Felicity grimaced. "I don't know much about cars or any of that," she admitted. "Even my own car, my dad helped me pick it. The truck was black, old with tinted windows. A bit banged up. It wasn't big. Maybe a Chevy? The license plate had been removed. Or rather, the plate was there, but the numbers and letters had been taken off. It must have been recent. You could see the shadows of the letters, if you get what I'm trying to say."

They nodded in affirmation.

"If you saw a photo, would you be able to ID the vehicle?" Hall asked.

Felicity considered for a second before giving a nod. "Yeah, I would," she decided. The truck she could remember quite clearly. Actually, once the disorientation from waking up had worn off, she recalled the whole thing far better than she wanted to.

"Excellent," Hall mumbled, scribbling frantically.

"Please continue, Ms. Smoak," Hilton requested. "You noticed the truck coming up behind you."

Felicity nodded and went on, forcing herself to ignore the instinctive panic that threatened to bubble up when she recalled the events that put her in the hospital.

"So, yeah, the truck was coming up behind me. It looked like it was going to try and overtake me, and was way above the speed limit," Felicity continued. "I slowed down a bit. I prefer to just let those assholes overtake them than take a risk, especially if one of my kids are with me. But it came level with me and stayed there. I looked over, just on instinct you know? The window went down and the gun was pointed at me and-"

She faltered, her heart monitor beeping and her breath going ragged. A nurse came rushing in as the two officers tried to assure her that she was safe now. Several minutes of fussing later, Felicity was calm again (aided by a tiny dose of sedative), the nurse had left and the questioning resumed.

"I don't remember anything after that," Felicity informed the pair.

"Do you remember what the shooter looked like?" Detective Hall pressed her.

Felicity grimaced, rubbing at her head. "I-uh, I'm not sure," she admitted. "It's all a bit of a blur, and I was focused on the gun. But I-"

"Anything you tell us is helpful," Hall assured her. "Is there anything else you can think of that might be relevant? Anything at all?"

Felicity shook her head helplessly. "I was focused on the gun," she repeated. "The shooter-I think they were a man, but they had a ski mask on. And gloves. Black leather gloves. I don't remember anything else. I'm sorry."

"No need, you've given us plenty to work with," Hall assured her.

"Yes, indeed," Hilton agreed. "One final question, Ms. Smoak. Can you think of anyone who might want to harm you? Anybody you feel unsafe around for whatever reason? Has anything seemed off to you recently?"

Felicity bit back the impertinent 'that's three questions' that wanted to escape, focusing on his inquiries instead. Forgetting her wound for a moment, she shrugged and subsequently winced at the stab of pain the movement caused. "I removed several kids from dangerous environments," she stated. "But just because a parent is unfit, doesn't mean they're unloving. Some have made threats, or outright attacked me. Everything is documented and reported. But I can't think of anybody specific who would go this far. I'm sorry."

"That's no problem," Hilton answered, turning off the recorder and tucking it back into his coat pocket. "Thank you, Ms. Smoak," he added. "You really have been very helpful."

"Feel better soon," Hall said with a polite smile as she put away her notepad. "And if you think of anything else, please contact us right away."

"Of course, thanks," Felicity answered, forcing a polite smile onto her lips as Detective Hilton also expressed his best wishes for her recovery before the pair left and she sagged back into her pillows, leaning her head back and closing her eyes tiredly. She felt utterly exhausted after the interview, which just went to show how weak she still was, much to her dismay.

Cecile ducked back inside as soon as the two detectives had left, a concerned, motherly smile on her face. She hurried over and fussed with Felicity's blankets, reminding the blonde of when she was a teenager, still new to the West household, and she'd caught a bad case of the flu. Her foster mother had steadfastly ignored Felicity's attempts to push her away in order to self-care, stubbornly pushing past the emotional barriers Felicity had been too weak to reinforce. It had been the first time in years that someone had actually taken care of her, and had gone a long way to getting Felicity to trust her new family.

"How are you feeling, honey?" Cecile asked as she helped Felicity adjust herself on the pillows. She didn't have a morphine drip, as Doctor Wells didn't want her to get dependant on it. They'd give her it by IV during her coma, then switched her to oral as soon as she woke up. She was on several other heavy-duty opiates too, but the pain from her gunshot wound was intense enough to cut through the numbing effects like a knife through butter. She shuddered to imagine how bad it would be _without_ the pain killers, if this was the pain with them.

"Tired," Felicity admitted. "And stressed. I'd like to call Craig and see how he is." She cut herself short and bit down hard on her bottom lip, guilt ripping through her again. It felt worse than the gunshot. The detectives had danced around the issue, but it was obvious that they believed that the attack had not been random, and that she had been targeted for some reason. And Craig had been in the car with her, had been hurt because some lunatic wanted to kill Felicity for God knows what reason.

Cecile gave her an understanding look, reaching out to swipe some hair out of her face. "Your phone was ruined in the crash," she stated. "But I know that Iris went and bought you a new one and restored it from the back-up for you. I'll ask her to bring it in when she comes in to visit later, alright? You can call Craig then and check up on him. I'm sure he'll be relieved to hear from you. All of your kids have been so worried for you, asking daily for you."

"Alright," Felicity agreed reluctantly. She'd prefer to call sooner, but she recognized the look in Cecile's eyes and knew that the judge had made her mind up on the matter, and wouldn't be gainsaid or allow anyone to change her decision.

"Now, you lie back and get some rest," her mother ordered her sternly but gently. "You're recovering, and that questioning can't have been easy on you, even if it was short."

Normally Felicity would probably have protested. She didn't like napping during the day. It completely ruined her sleep cycle. As it was, her eyelashes felt as if they had anchors attached to them, weighing them down, and the questioning really _had_ taken quite a bit out of her.

"Okay," she agreed with a sigh.

Cecile smiled in satisfaction and settled back in her chair with a file and pen while Felicity leaned back and tried to fall asleep despite not being able to go on her side like usual. To her (later) surprise, she drifted off within minutes at the most, completely spent despite her lack of activity.

* * *

"This is gonna be a huge shitshow when it hits the news," McKenna muttered to her partner as they left the hospital.

"Yeah," he sighed resignedly.

An anonymous tip had put them on the trail of Rene Ramirez and some careful digging had revealed a money trail leading right to _Moira Queen_ of all people. Even if Moira wasn't behind the attack on Felicity Smoak, the social worker whose actions had led to the socialite's disgrace and estrangement from her son, she was at least guilty of having a lush offshore bank account, and she'd paid Ramirez for _something_. Paid him with funds embezzled from Queen Consolidated, if their findings were right.

It seemed unlikely, given that both persons of interest had reasons to hold a grudge against Felicity, that the large pay-out was a coincidence. McKenna didn't like the show NCIS, it made a mockery of law enforcement in her own opinion, but she agreed with one thing in it. As Gibbs liked to insist, there's no such thing as a coincidence.

They had just reached the car when Hilton's phone buzzed. He glanced at the Caller ID and frowned as he answered. "Quentin? What's going on?" McKenna paused in preparing to start the car, watching her partner expectantly. His frown deepened and he nodded.

"Alright," he stated. "We're still at the hospital. We'll head back in and question him now." He hung up and turned back to McKenna. "Ramirez was just admitted to hospital after a car crash," he announced. "Wasn't hurt too badly, by the sounds of it, but preliminary examination of the scene shows that the brakes were cut."

"Someone tried to kill him," McKenna murmured. Kill him and tie up a loose end.

They hurried back inside the building, this time heading to the ER instead of the wards and were soon allowed to see Ramirez. The nurse they spoke to informed them that he could be discharged if somebody could watch him overnight. Apparently, he had a concussion that kept them from letting him go home alone.

Well, if things turned out the way McKenna thought they would, he'd have plenty of company in the precinct's holding cells to keep an eye on him.

The man was sitting sullenly on an uncomfortable chair, arms crossed in a manner reminiscent of a sulky teenager. There was a faint smell of alcohol around him and he was dressed sloppily. He had a split lip and some butterfly stitches on the left side of his forehead, with several cuts and bruises scattered over him, but otherwise seemed alright. He had been extremely fortunate, it seemed.

"Mr. Ramirez? I'm Detective Lucas Hilton and this is my partner, McKenna Hall. We have some questions for you about Felicity Smoak."

Ramirez's expression twisted into an angry snarl. "Don't talk to me 'bout that bitch!" He growled in rage. "She took my baby girl from me!"

"We're given to understand that custody of your daughter was taken from you due to your repeated lapses into drug use, and violence," McKenna responded coolly. "Not to mention your apparent inability to hold a job. Curiously, even though there is no record of employment for you since around the time the courts terminated your parental rights, you recently came into a windfall of cash, transferred to you from an offshore bank account. Transferred the day before Ms. Smoak's shooting. Don't you find that interesting, Mr Ramirez? We do."

He glared, clenching his fists. "If you're accusing me of something, say it outright!" He demanded.

"Alright, if you insist," Hilton assented, stepping forward to loom over the suspect. "We think that Moira Queen hired you to murder Felicity Smoak and paid you half a million dollars to do it. Do you deny it?"

"No, I damn well don't!" Ramirez bit out. "Lying bitch had some guy pick me up. Offered to get me custody of my daughter back, 'long with a million bucks, half before and half after the job was done, 's well as a few other things. Better job for me and a private school for Zoe. Then that bitch tried to turn it around on me! She tried to kill me, swindled me outta everything she promised, no good, uppity bitch! Well, if I'm goin' down, then I'm takin' her with me!"

McKenna wondered if it was the concussion or alcohol that made him so talkative. Either way, they had a freely given confession, and they weren't the only witnesses. Several others were in the hall, two doctors, a nurse and three people who must've been in with patients but didn't seem hurt or injured themselves. All were staring, mouths agape with shock and horror at what the man had admitted during his furious rant.

The two cops exchanged looks before Hilton stepped forward again and pulled out his handcuffs, beginning to reel off the Miranda Rights as he cuffed the ranting Glades resident.

"Rene Ramirez, you are under arrest for assault and attempted murder of Felicity Smoak. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford one, one will be provided for you..."


	17. Situations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver makes a move while Thea's world is ripped out from under her

**Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow.**

**Thanks to everyone enjoying this. Everyone stay safe, follow government regs and get vaccinated ASAP to restore normality!**

**Read, enjoy and review.**

**Chapter Seventeen**

**Hypothetical and Real Situations**

It was a huge relief to the Queen guys when Felicity called to check up on Will and assure them that she was improving more by the day. "I'm a little tired and sore, but I'm fine," she promised Will, who repeatedly asked if she was really okay, not just saying so to make them feel better. Eventually, she persuaded the young boy that she wasn't lying, and agreed to Will's request for the pair of them to come in for a short visit that afternoon. Will immediately ran off with Jesse to go and get ready, while Oliver spent a few more moments on the phone with Felicity.

"I'm glad you're alright," he told her, trying to convey as much of his relief as possible. "We were both worried for you."

"Thank you," she replied gently. "But I really am fine, Oliver. Don't worry. I'm a tough woman, I promise."

"Even the toughest person in the world can be killed," Oliver pointed out glumly.

"But I didn't," she reminded him.

"You didn't," he acknowledged. He paused, then forced himself to go on. Maybe it was cowardly to do it over the phone, but it was easier. He didn't know if he would be able to gather the courage to do so face-to-face (or if he would even get the opportunity. Will had been distraught for the past few days, and Oliver anticipated a great struggle in getting the child to leave his social worker be at the end of the visit, let alone earlier). "Hypothetically, if a parent of one of your kids wanted to ask you out on a date, what would you say?"

She was silent for a terrifying moment before replying, a hint of shyness in her voice. "Hypothetically, I would tell said parent that we have two options to avoid emotional compromise. One, wait until I was no longer acting as W- as the child's social worker and then go out if we still wanted to, or else to have the child transferred to another social worker."

Oliver nodded, despite Felicity not being able to see the motion, and went on. "So, you'd be open to the invite."

"I would, yes," she agreed softly. "But not at the risk of the child's case."

"You're a saint," he remarked hoarsely. His biggest problem with dating since Will's birth, even before Samantha died, was that the women he went out with were usually disinterested in his son at best. Most of the ones who acted caring towards him on the very rare occasions he would meet a woman with his son present did so purely to gain favour with him. With Felicity, Oliver knew that would never happen. Her every action and word proved that her charges, Will included, came before everything else for her.

"Actually, I'm Jewish," she responded teasingly. Her voice softened. "How about we talk more about that hypothetical situation after I'm discharged and back to work?"

"Yeah, sounds good," Oliver agreed. "Are-"

"Da- _ad_ , come _on_! Let's go!" Will returned, coat and runners on and a box of luxury salted caramel chocolates clutched tightly to his chest. He must have remembered Felicity commenting around New Years that salted caramel was her favourite, and had gotten it from the cabinet where Oliver kept a stock of boxes of chocolate and bottles of wine for when they went on visits to the homes of QC's business partners or investors. It was easier than remembering to buy them every time.

"William, don't interrupt your father when he's on the phone," Jesse scolded him gently. She gave her employer an apologetic look. "Sorry, Mr. Queen. He's eager to go and see Felicity."

Oliver nodded. "Just a moment please. Felicity, are you _sure_ that you're okay for us to come for a visit? I don't want to wear you out or anything. Your recovery is top priority. For everyone."

"I'm fine," she promised. "Looking forward to seeing Will. I'm sure a hug from one of my favourite guys'll be just what I need."

"Okay," Oliver agreed. "We should be there in about an hour."

"Looking forward to it," she answered warmly before they said their goodbyes and hung up.

"Take the rest of the day off," Oliver instructed Jesse as he ushered Will out the door, before teasingly asking his son why he was taking so long as Oliver grabbed his own coat from its' hook by the door and tugged it on, taking advantage of his longer legs to gain the lead. Will let out a sound of indignation and rushed after his father.

As they headed for the car, Oliver made a mental note to organize another session for Will with Dr Stein. He'd had two since Felicity was shot, but while Felicity's recovery was a good event, it was still an overwhelming and emotional one. Another session would no doubt do his kid good when it came to dealing with the tumultuous situation.

* * *

Thea had been released from rehab shortly after New Years, and had returned to the Queen mansion. Determined to keep from relapsing, she had severed her ties with her former friends such as Becky Rasmussen and Melissa Bauer. They were continuing with their rich, drug and alcohol-heavy lifestyles, and Thea didn't want to risk getting pulled back into that. Temporary highs that did little to relieve the emptiness she often felt weren't worth losing her brother and nephew over.

The problem was that cutting ties with her former 'friends' (for lack of another word to call them, though she had never considered actually letting any of them in, knowing full well that they would be quick to turn on her and use any secrets she might have revealed to ruin her if they felt it needed or warranted) left her at lose ends most of the time. And boredom to was a risk to her sobriety.

She had gone so far as to actually do her schoolwork, preferring the dullness that was trigonometry to lying on her bed watching the same old sitcoms 24/7. But it wasn't enough to keep her distracted from temptation, so Thea had found herself looking for something to occupy her time. It was her brother who suggested she pick up archery or a martial art of some sort. He had done the same after his own release from rehab, learning archery from a former Olympic champion for China, Yao Fei Gulong at the man's small archery school on the outskirts of Starling. He had also picked up Wing Chun, but that Ollie learned from his bodyguard, Dig. She'd never tell him so, but he was pretty good.

Thea had taken his advice to give archery a go, and though she felt ridiculous at first, she found that Ollie was right when he told her of how relaxing and stress-relieving it was to go through the motions of knocking the arrow, pulling it back and releasing it at the target. She wasn't great yet, but she was hitting the target four times out of five already, and Yao Fei had shamelessly informed her that she was doing far better than Oliver when he first started. Some of the stories of her brother's first attempts at archery had reduced her to crying from the laughter.

It was through Yao Fei's archery school that she met the teacher for the kids' class, Roy Harper, guy from the Glades who, coincidentally, also worked at Verdant, the club Oliver and Tommy had opened together years before. He fascinated her, mainly because of how little he cared for her surname. Most people Thea met fell over themselves to be accommodating towards her the instant that they heard the name 'Queen'. Roy was the reverse, scoffing and mocking her as a 'Princess' and scorning the possibility of her life being anything but charmed. His reality check had hit her even harder than Ollie's had.

Some of the stuff Roy told her about life in the Glades had really made her think. And in doing so, she had become even more ashamed of a lot of her actions and her entitled attitude. She wanted to do better, to prove Roy wrong when he called her out for being selfish and spoilt. She wanted to use her influence to improve things in the Glades, so that twelve-year-old boys wouldn't be left to fend for themselves, joining gangs to have money for food.

The fact that he was so cute might have played a part in her willingness to endure his smart mouthed remarks about her life as well, even if she wasn't prepared to admit it.

Thea was just home from a visit to the archery school, eager to soak in a bubble bath and ease her sore shoulders, when she saw a dozen police cars pull up the driveway from her window.

"What the hell?" She muttered in bewilderment, pulling her shirt back on and hastening down the stairs to the foyer, where Raisa, looking concerned and bemused, was letting in a large group of cops, both uniformed and plainclothes. Captain Quentin Lance was at the head of the group, two documents in his fist and a grim expression on his face. Unease and fear twisted Thea's stomach into tight knots.

"What's going on?" she demanded as her mother came into the hall from the direction of the small, secondary sitting room.

"I would like to know that as well, Captain Lance," Moira said sharply, frowning deeply. "What do you think you're doing, barging into my family's home like this?"

"Moira Dearden Queen, you are under arrest," Captain Lance replied, ignoring Moira's question. Thea and Raisa both gasped, and the young woman was grateful for her housekeeper's support when the Russian woman immediately wrapped a supportive arm around her slim shoulders. The heiress could hardly find the words to breathe, never mind speak, as she watched the scene in utter disbelief and shock that it could really be happening.

"The charges are as follows," the police captain continued, ignoring Moira's outraged protests as a young, olive skinned detective stepped forward to cuff her. "Conspiracy to commit murder, attempted murder, bribery, coercion, embezzlement, fraud and tax evasion. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights as they have been explained to you?"

"I do," Moira confirmed, visibly fuming. "But this is outrageous. I have done nothing wrong. I will be expecting an apology when this is all over and done with."

Thea's heart thudded heavily against her ribcage. She hiccupped and pressed a hand to her mouth to keep from bursting into sobs. She was positive that only Raisa's arm around her kept her on her feet instead of falling to her knees. The Russian woman whispered soothingly to her, but she couldn't make the words out through the rushing in her ears.

"The evidence will clear everything up quickly, I'm sure," Lance responded mildly, before gesturing to the detective who had cuffed Moira. Thea didn't fail to notice his wording, and lack of apparent concern over the fuss that the Queen family would kick up over Moira being wrongly arrested, meaning that he had reason to believe their actions wouldn't matter. Bile burned her throat as she stared at the scene, barely able to breathe.

"Take her out to the car and head for the station," Lance instructed his subordinate. "You know the procedure. Make sure everything is followed to the letter."

"Yes sir," the woman confirmed, urging Moira towards the door.

"Mom!" The panicked exclamation finally escaped Thea's lips, and she took several steps in her mother's direction as Moira turned her head to look at her daughter. The cops all looked her way too, looks of pity and sympathy on their faces.

"It's alright Thea darling," Moira promised her. "I'll call Adrian the moment I'm at the station, this will all be cleared up in time for dinner I'm sure. These charges are ludicrous, and we all know it."

Thea gave a tiny nod, the knot in her stomach tightening even more. Her vision was blurry with the tears she was holding back, but she still watched with a trembling bottom lip as her mother was escorted out to a police car, put in the back, and driven away.

"Miss Queen," Captain Lance gained her attention, his voice gentle and sympathetic. "I'm sorry, but we have a warrant to search the premises. We need you and the staff to all leave the grounds while we do so, as we can't allow the risk of evidence tampering."

Thea wrapped her arms around herself and gave a faint nod. "Alright," she agreed quietly. "Raisa, can you-?"

"Yes, Miss Thea," the Russian woman agreed, giving her a concerned look before heading off (a uniformed officer trailing her) to gather the rest of the staff. Thea, meanwhile, pulled her phone out of her pocket and tried to call her brother. When it went to voicemail, she left him a message telling him to call her back ASAP as there was an emergency, and then went to sit on the porch steps, knees hugged to her chest and chin resting on top of them.

Despite what everyone probably thought, it wasn't distress over her mother's arrest that had her acting so quietly compliant and tearful. Not entirely, though it was part of it, and linked to the other reason.

It was the fact that she couldn't shake the memory of Moira's expression when she was arrested from her thoughts. Most people wouldn't have noticed the minute changes in her face when Captain Lance read off the charges against her, but Thea was not most people. She knew her mother.

The thing that was upsetting Thea the most was that she knew from the moment the charges were read that Moira was guilty.


	18. The Queen's Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moira's sentencing, a year after being arrested.

**Disclaimer: I don't Arrow.**

**So, I'd say this is the last chapter with an epilogue to come. Hope you all enjoy it, and thanks to all the reviewers, favouriters, etc.**

**Read, enjoy and review!**

**Chapter Eighteen**

**The Trial of the Queen**

It had been just under a year since Thea had watched as their mother was arrested by the SCPD, and the trial was finally happening. Oliver still struggled to believe it some days, waking up convinced it was all some mad dream. He had started attending therapy himself, struggling to reconcile the loving mother Moira had shown to him and Thea with the stranger shown to him through the police's evidence.

Much as he wanted to deny it, it was all real. His mother was a criminal, and his company was just barely hanging on. It had taken a lot of major hits in a short span of time from first him being investigated by Child Protective Services and then the accusations levelled against Moira. They were managing, but some days it was a fight to keep the company floating above the water. The device designed to help fix paralysis that had been developed by one of their best techs, Curtis Holt, was their saving grace. It wasn't 100% effective yet, and expensive to create, but it was such a valuable invention it had pretty much saved the company singlehandedly.

Meanwhile, his baby sister was fighting against depression, and refusing to contact Moira at all. Oliver, too, was refusing to respond to Moira's attempts to reach out. He had gone to see her once, but her attempts to justify not only her attempted murder of Felicity but every other crime and scandal she was involved with that had come out, such as bribery, coercion, embezzlement, paying off his father's mistresses and several of his own girlfriends, had enraged him too much to repeat the experience. He had paid the fees for her lawyer, Adrian Chase, and washed his hands of the rest of the mess, doing his best to distance himself (and Queen Consolidated) from her as much as he could. Their stock prices had crashed when Moira was jailed and refused bail, the judge having decided that her many properties and accounts meant she was a flight risk.

The silver lining of the whole, miserable year, however, was that he was no longer being watched by the DCPS. He and Felicity had ended up putting any thoughts of starting a relationship on hold while Oliver was struggling to juggle caring for Thea and Will with saving QC from the fallout of everything that had happened and Felicity was recovering from her injuries.

Just a few days ago, however, they had gone out to a movie in Central City and dinner at a nice Italian restaurant, their first (of many, Oliver hoped) date. It had gone well. The friendship they had formed since Felicity was assigned as his son's social worker had given their new relationship a foundation that (after a slightly flustered opening) had allowed the date to go surprisingly smoothly. Felicity was a genius with an abundance of knowledge on pretty much every topic they discussed, and they'd had a great time, though they had mutually agreed to hold off any announcements of their relationship until it became serious, which was why they had gone all the way to Central City instead of doing something at home in Starling. Only a handful of people, the Diggles, Thea and Felicity's family, knew about their budding relationship.

But the happiness he'd felt at the date had been leeched away by the impending reality of Moira's trial. It began today, and Oliver felt obligated to go and watch. Thea had flat out refused, preferring to spend the day with her new boyfriend, Roy Harper, instead. Oliver hadn't pushed.

He left his son in the capable hands of Raisa and Jesse, and headed off the courthouse. After they parked, he lingered in the car for several moments, staring out the window at the building with a shadowed expression.

"You good, man?" Dig asked sympathetically, eyes softened in understanding. Diggle's younger brother, Andy, had been sentenced to prison when he was discovered to be dealing drugs while still in the army. While in imprisoned he'd been fatally stabbed during a riot. John and Lyla were the primary support system for Dig's sister-in-law, Carly, and her son AJ, who was frequently sent to spend the afternoon with his cousins (now numbering three with the addition of Connor Hawke Diggle after the recent finalization of the adoption.) while his mother worked long shifts at Big Belly Burger. Dig's support and understanding had been a great help for Oliver over the past several months.

"Yeah," Oliver confirmed after swallowing to clear his throat. "Yeah, I'm good. I'm fine."

Dig didn't press, knowing that this wasn't the time. Oliver didn't bother to wait for his driver to get out and open his door for him, instead exiting the car himself. Dig quickly caught up with him and provided a human shield between his friend/boss and the group of reporters who immediately descended on them, yelling questions at the young CEO and shoving their microphones in his face in hopes of a comment.

Oliver arrived at the courtroom entrance, squared his shoulders, braced himself, and entered the room.

* * *

Rene Ramirez had already been tried. He had pled guilty and accepted a deal to testify against both Moira and her henchman, Cyrus Gold, in exchange for a shortened term and the ability to maintain contact with his daughter.

Though permission for contact had been granted, Zoe herself, after being told of what her father had done and tried to do, had been refusing to speak to him. She was settled in with a couple named Kendra Saunders and Carter Hall and their son Aldus now. Carter was an active-duty Air Force lieutenant colonel, while Kendra, who had also been a captain in the USAF (that was where the pair had met, both having been assigned to the same base after graduating) had retired with an honourable discharge after getting pregnant. She now worked as a manager at the local branch of Jitters while raising their son and now Zoe too, in between night classes studying Egyptology at Starling City University. Carter himself was currently assigned as a trainer at a nearby Air Force base. Kendra's grandmother, Edith Boardman, lived with them as well, a very active and sharp lady of nearing ninety-five who was full of stories for the children of her long life.

Zoe was happy with the family, and blossoming in the environment. She was starting to act like the young teenage girl she was, not the miniature adult her upbringing as the child of a pair of addicts and drunks had made her into. Felicity was very pleased with how wonderfully the placement was working out.

She was doing so well, Felicity hadn't even broached the topic of the teenager speaking on the phone with, or even writing to, her father after Zoe's initial refusal. Felicity trusted that if she changed her mind, Zoe would tell her.

Thankfully, Rene's pleading guilty had spared his daughter the pain of a public trial, which would no doubt have been traumatizing for the poor girl. Moira Queen had not been so considerate or at all repentant, and there had been months of arguing and attempts at getting her to change her plea to guilty, something the woman stubbornly refused to do in spite of multiple generous deals being offered by the DA's office.

That had led up to now, the first day of her trial, a highly publicized event given the defendant's identity. Everyone knew (most of, at any rate. There was a select number of genuinely decent people among the group) the elites of Starling City were all into a lot of shady shit, but it was rare that the SCPD managed to get enough evidence for it not to be swept under the rug with a 'charitable contribution' to the department's coffers. Admittedly, the convictions rate had improved a lot after the old commissioner was replaced by Lance. Still, the trial was rare and exciting enough to have crowds filling not only the courtroom but the entire courthouse and even spilling out onto the steps and the square.

Felicity had wavered between whether or not to attend Moira's trial. The trial of the mother of her new boyfriend, who had tried to have her murdered. In the end, she had decided to attend the opening and closing days. She saw Oliver enter and take a seat, but didn't go and greet him. They were keeping their fragile new relationship discreet, and there was an abundance (an over-abundance, in the blonde's opinion) of reporters in the room.

The judge entered shortly after Oliver, ordering the doors closed and they went through the various opening formalities. Then the lawyers began their opening arguments.

The prosecution went first. It was a woman in her late thirties, Alexa Van Owen. She was a highly reputable attorney who had successfully prosecuted many high profile and challenging cases, the most famous being that of Bruno Manheim and the lieutenants of his criminal organization, Intergang. Cecile liked her as a prosecutor, saying that Van Owen had a strict moral compass and took no shit, keeping her composure no matter what curveballs the defence attempted to throw her way.

The lawyer was an excellent orator, laying out the facts and assuring the jury that, by the time they were ready to deliberate, there would be no doubt that Moira had tried to murder an innocent woman for no reason other said woman had stung her pride. Her true character, greedy and selfish and arrogant, uncaring of anybody other than herself and her social status, would be laid bare for all to see, Van Owen declared. She made a few other comments, before at last wrapping up and taking her seat beside her co-counsel, Adam Donner.

After that it was the defence's turn to lay out their own opening argument. Adrian Chase was handsome, but a known sleaze. He blatantly flirted with the female jurors and tried to joke with the men as he portrayed Moira as a woman driven to desperation.

"A mother and grandmother, who's life is her children and grandson," he called her, casting a woeful look at the women of the jury, who seemed mostly unsympathetic despite his best efforts. "Did she do the right thing when she tried to bribe Ms. Smoak into putting an end to the investigation into Mr. Queen's parenting abilities? No, she did not. I acknowledge that.

_Mrs. Queen_ acknowledges that. She was trying to protect her family, and she went about it in entirely the wrong way. She was afraid of losing her only grandchild, of her son going through the heartbreak of losing his child to the foster system for someone else's actions and she panicked and acted without thinking her actions through properly.

But bribery, ladies and gentlemen, is a far cry from attempted murder. What is the basis of the evidence against Mrs. Queen? The word of drug addicted alcoholic from the Glades. What is that against the many charitable works my client has preformed over the years?

I promise you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury. By the end of this trial, you will all see and agree with me in my opinion of this entire case. It is nothing more than a sham, an attempt to blacken the name of one of the finest women of our great society, without any genuine basis to it."

Felicity bit the inside of her cheek, looking discreetly at Oliver, who's shoulders were bowed as he stared straight ahead with a blank expression, not looking at anyone. Then her gaze drifted to Moira, who certainly didn't appear to be a woman "driven to desperation", dressed in a gorgeous, no doubt designer, dark purple dress with a matching suit jacket and a set of pearls around her neck and dangling from her earlobes.

The sooner this was over, Felicity concluded. The better. For all of them, from the Queens to the workers of QC who were terrified that the company would be destroyed by Moira's conviction.

It wasn't a long trial. It began Monday morning, and on Thursday afternoon, the jury made the announcement of their decision.

"Guilty, on all charges."

Moira was sentenced to ten years.

Oliver felt his shoulders slump at the sentencing, and he refused to look his mother's way as the guards led her out of the room, which was full of excited voices as people discussed the result. Dig hustled him out into a private corridor, where Felicity soon found them. She embraced him, Dig slipping away discreetly as he buried his head in her shoulder and fought to urge to break down.

"It's going to be alright, Oliver," she murmured as she stroked his back soothingly. "I promise. It's all going to be alright."


End file.
